Help Arrives
by Liesane
Summary: Based in the distant future (formerly 2014), a girl and a group of police officers discover the secret Justine is holding beneath her family's mansion. Will the officers and the girl be able to rescue the people in her father's cellar? This story brings justice to the suitors.
1. Part 1: Aloïs

**Help Arrives**

**Part 1: Aloïs**

The cops tensely followed the girl into the Florbelle mansion's living room. It was stunningly beautiful- the whole house- typically one a wealthy family would own. Just the living room was filled with neat yellow vases, atmospheric lit candles held by dark candelabras placed on the surface of small tables, and grand wooden bookshelves against the wooden walls of the room. A golden chandelier hung from the ceiling at the center of the room, a neatly-patterned rectangular rug was spread across the triangular-tiled floor, and a tall grandfather clock stood tall and proud by the door-frame. There were several wooden couches and seats with dark cyan cushions that stood symmetrically across from each other in the room. The elegant curtains were long and crimson-colored, and draped onto the floor. They were held open by golden ropes, and the light that shined through the windows made the large room seem more tranquil and less foreboding than it actually was. A few tasteful paintings and well-kept plants were sprinkled here and there. No, the room didn't look suspicious at all.

"It's that door over there." She pointed at the red Victorian-esque door which was next to one of the vases. One of the policemen gently opened it with his left hand, a gun held firmly in the other. The policemen all peered inside. They saw a long stone staircase with cobblestone hand rails, but the first thing they noticed was how ominous and strange the hall felt when they opened the door. There were cobwebs everywhere and the small candle lights could barely illuminate anything. They walked unhurriedly down the steps, as the disturbing atmosphere felt too terrifying to hurry through.

"Hey, uh… Can I wait outside?" asked one of the cops, timidly.

"Uh, yes, sure you can," answered the chief of the police. He could understand the fear and apprehension the young recruit must be feeling. The young cop quickly hurried back up towards the light of the door.

"I'll stand guard here!" he called to them. The rest didn't answer back.

"Hey, don't you think you should stay back as well?" another cop asked the girl.

"Nonsense. I need to guide you policemen or else you wouldn't stand a chance down here." The dark-haired girl kept walking ahead. The cops were slightly taken aback by the confidence with which she replied. "What? I was only kidding! It's less scary with you down here," she comforted, now with a less snappy tone, trying to keep the mood lighter. If only she could, she sulked.

The next door the team came upon once they turned a corner was wide, wooden, and seemed to be like from dungeons or castles in the middle-ages, made from planks with a brass circular handle. This was a large contrast from the elegant red door upstairs. The girl hesitantly clutched the handle and pulled the door open. She and the cops walked through the door to the spacious stony annex. The wall facing a door in front of them contained gears as if from some sort of contraption.

Most of the men jumped when they saw what seemed to be a person's naked corpse hanging upside down from the ceiling with a brass trumpet-like thing attached to its mouth, as if from an old-style phonograph.

"What in the… Heaven's name?" shuddered one cop as he pointed at the corpse.

The girl stuttered, "I-I… think it's just a rag doll… I don't know. Just don't stare at it for too long…" She turned towards the wall to the left of the hanging person and started feeling around it.

"What are you looking for?" asked one of the men.

"A button," she replied. The girl hit a stone slightly with her fist until she heard a clank. "Aha!" she exclaimed. Everyone stepped back quickly as the wall seemed to be moving towards them. The rusty gears clanked furiously. The stone wall stopped abruptly half way through the room. "Come here," she told them, walking around the wall to a secret door behind the contraption.

"Ingenious! I wonder who created this whole thing down here!"

"Probably the father of a real sociopath," the girl answered quite bitterly, which surprised the men.

"Hey, so… there's a door right there…" The blond man pointed at the door opposite the wall with gears inside. "Why can't we go through that one?" he asked.

"Well, if we go through that door it will be much more difficult to reach the others, as well as… more dangerous," she answered uneasily. "It would be going backwards, you know?"

"Okay, then…"The men looked at each other quite fearfully and did not object any further to the girl's orders.

As the group of men and girl made their way through the dark dirty hall, they felt the eeriness of the cellar grow… and they haven't even gotten to the frightening parts yet. Good thing the cops brought their flashlights.

The walk felt like ages, but soon it seemed like the end of the trail. The girl, though, signaled above them. One of the men looked up and reached for the ceiling, as he was the tallest one. He felt a wooden surface, pushed upwards, and lifted what seemed like the frame of a bed. Light poured into the dark hall where they stood. "Let's go up," the girl told them. The tall man offered to lift her up the hole. "Um… Can you go first, please?" she asked, trembling slightly. The man sucked in his fear and grabbed the edges of the hole. He heaved and pushed himself through and found himself in a cell, like from a prison. The air was cold and he felt a sudden chill down his spine. The girl below held her hands up to the man above, and he grabbed them. She stepped on the rim of a barrel lying on the floor and pushed herself up with the man's help. The rest of the men- 5, as the girl said they would approximately need- followed through in the same fashion until they were all in the cell together. They felt really cramped and the girl warned them that they must be very, very quiet- or at least to speak with their inside voices.

"Hey, look at this," one man chuckled softly, cranking the handle of a phonograph with a similar phone as the one the hanging man had. The crank had a rope tied to it. "It's one of those old phonographs! Let's listen…"

The men and girl stood back as the machine rolled out its lesson. It was the voice of a young woman- most likely Justine- speaking in a somewhat sinister and provocative tone. She welcomes the men in French and begins explaining…

_"Bienvenue! You are now listening to the sound of my disembodied voice. It will serve you no purpose to look for me, for this is a voice from the past! I bid you welcome to my 'Cabinet of Perturbation'!"_

Some of the men flinched.

_"It is my study of the human psyche- specifically yours! A set of recordings have been prepared to chaperone you through the chambers ahead. There are a few parts to this study, and it is up to you- not only to pass, but to figure out what elements are important. Please go on. Move in to the next chamber. Just remember: they can all be saved; there is always a way."_

There the recording stops, and the men are left feeling uneasy and unsure.

The phonograph was beside a small table with a lit candle directly next to the barred door, but the door was locked firmly. A rope was tied to it, as well as a lantern hanging from the ceiling. The girl removed the lantern, but placed it on the bed's mattress, stating how they wouldn't need a lantern since they already have flashlights and that they're not given any oil throughout the chambers either. The lock on the door suddenly breaks, letting the men and girl free.

"Interesting contraption...," states one man, examining the pulley on the ceiling. "Apparently, when you take the lantern that is lowered by the crank, the pull from whatever is pulling causes the unbalanced force, and the object's weight dismantles the lock!"

"You should've been a scientist, Christian," nastily joked one brown-haired man as he exits the cell with the rest of the group.

"No, this is why I'm also an investigator…," retorted the blond man as he made sure to take the cylinder from the phonograph as evidence and followed him.

The darkness made the halls seem confusing, and rocks rumbled above them as if the ceiling were to collapse at any moment. The men flicked on their flashlights. They walked forwards, following the path, and when they saw another tunnel way they went left twice, as instructed by the girl. If she had remembered correctly, there was something very important there if Justine had not already reset the 'game'.

There they saw the passage blocked by fallen rocks, but a piece of a ladder lay amongst the rubble- one that they would then need to traverse to the next chamber, as it appears that Justine had indeed reset the whole thing. They took the ladder piece and made their way back to where they saw the second tunnel to their right. They followed that way and found the door to the main prison. Before opening the wooden door, the girl told the police to be especially quiet here. She pulled the door open and immediately they saw large pillars in front of them and about six other cell doors on opposite sides of the prison. Barrels, crates, and chairs laid about the abandoned room as they would need them to get to places. Crude wooden boards on the floor covered what seemed to be a sewage passage under metal grates.

"Okay, first we go check this cell to the left," the girl told the men. She went first and opened the door very carefully. The men followed her, but suddenly heard loud asthmatic breathing. In a hurry, the men and girl snuck into the cell and closed the door. The team stayed crouched down on the floor, some shivering as a terrible eerie mist set over the room.

They heard a pitiful, somber voice echo through the dungeon, crying out for someone. "Is that you, my love?" it called. The voice then gasped in vain excitement. "You came for me, didn't you!" The girl had warned them previously that some of the victims they needed to save were mad and possibly violent, but they were also blind. They were excellent listeners, though.

In fear, the men didn't want to look out, but alas they did. The horror they saw was appalling: a stark naked, skeletal man with chains wrapped around his legs and left arm, some ends hooked brutally into his flesh, and blood dripping from large gashes all over his body. An unusual iron wheel was around his neck, choking him, - odd how Justine could've gotten that around his head- and in place of his eyes were black voids, blooded tears streaming down his pale cheeks. A very prominent 'X' was carved into his chest, and though abacinated, his eyes seemed to have been gouged out instead.

The men felt sick to the stomach as they watched the poor helpless man stumble around the pillars, calling and hopelessly searching for the love who had abandoned him. He looked to the police like a dog that had been neglected, chained outside without love or care for months. His wounds seemed fresh, though- like as if only a few days old. The man wheezed and coughed, and soon trudged blindly over to the door from which the team itself had come from, his chains clanking noisily and head hung low in sheering disappointment. Another man quickly ran up to the door and closed it as soon as the monster's loud moaning was out of earshot.

The rest of the men in the cell breathed a sigh of relief, for now they could explore the room without fear of external conflict.

A dirt-smudged note lay on the floor beside the girl, so she picked it up and gave it to the chief. He read the note in his head as the others peered over his shoulder to read it as well.

The note read:

_"Le 22 avril 2014  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_Salutation, Inspector Marot of the Sûreté Nationale,  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_As you very well know, the chief of police in Calais has turned down my request to pursue Justine Florbelle for stealing my son. Ever since their affair started, Aloïs, my son, has forsaken his duties to his family and failed to pursue his career. Since the law seems unable to find a crime within the realm of Mademoiselle Justine's actions, I will ask you to retrieve Dr. Victor Fournier later this week. He is a respectable aliéniste, an expert in the human psyche and he believes he may have found a legal way to incarcerate her. If he is able to diagnose her as a hysteric, it would provide you an ample excuse to have her locked up. I trust you and your agency will not turn us down.  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_Cordialement, Lucien Racine."_

"Well, now we are here," spoke quietly the chief of the team, still holding the note. He gave the note to Christian to put it in their bag of evidence.

"So, that injured chap walking around outside was Aloïs Racine… wasn't he?" asked André, one of the blond cops.

The girl nodded, a solemn expression. "I believe so… and I want you to help him!" whispered the girl, a hint of hope in her eyes. "I mean, he's still a man! He's only in a grave condition, you see!" she held the cops shoulders seriously. "We don't want to hurt them, okay? So, please, try to use your guns as very little as possible…"

The cops looked at each other with concerned faces. Surely this couldn't be too difficult, could it? Then the thought of the cruelty imposed on by Justine… These men must be saved and receive medical attention as soon as possible. "Alright," Chief Bernard agreed, as he stood up. "That's why we're down here: to save these men, and we haven't much time…"

"Hey! You people!" another man's voice called. The cops jumped. "Can you police officers help me!" This voice was different, not monstrous, but normal- yet, desperate. A brown-haired cop by the name Léon exited the cell first and followed the voice to a locked barred door at the center of the left wall of the prison. The rest followed him hurriedly. "Can you get me out of here!" he called. "I'm the doctor who was sent to diagnose Justine! She made those monstrosities of abused men trap me down here and is now using me for her sick games!" The man the police officers and the girl were looking at had a black sack over his head and was lain down and strapped to a table. The room in which Dr. Fournier was in seemed rather large and obscure, and an ominous red spear was directly above the man.

"Don't worry! Remember me? We'll get you out of here!" called Jane, the girl, clenching two bars of the door.

"You? Yeah, I remember that voice! You were the second person that passed me this week!"

"Yeah, well, I know the police officers will find a way to get you out of there, as well as save the other men here with you!" Jane called back to him, reassuringly. The girl stepped back and began speaking with the cops again. "We have an ambulance outside, right?" she asked the chief of police.

"Yes, we do," he informed.

"Good." Jane turned back to the man. "Don't worry. Help will be on the way, just stay there and relax for a few. We'll bring in the rescue team once we're done investigating this prison."

"Okay," the man muffled, sweat still pouring down his hot face.

André, the blond cop, stepped back to gaze around the room and noticed a large wooden lever beside the gate. "Hey, but there's a lever here." The doctor held his breath. The girl turned around suddenly, remembering the lever. He reached his hand out to grasp it, but Christian put his hand on André's shoulder.

"I would advise you not to touch that," the cop told him pensively.

"Yes. I just remembered that if you pull that lever, this man will die," explained Jane, recalling when she first pulled it accidentally, that time only lowering the spear slightly. André quickly stepped away from the lever and flashed a nervous smile back at the cops. Dr. Fournier breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

The cops scattered in order to search through each one of the cells. André and Christian took to the first room on the right. Jérôme, the tallest police officer, searched the second door to the right. Jane and Chief Bernard looked in the third cell to the right, Étienne, Christian's friend, took charge of the third cell to the left, and Léon approached the room from where Aloïs had come.

"Blocked," he announced to the rest of the crew. "by more rubble."

"Hey, cool, there's a violin in here!" exclaimed André, holding it up.

"Yes, and a pool of blood; also a bottle of who-knows-what. Let's get out of here," Christian panicked slightly, feeling the presence of something unfriendly that had been in this cell. "Well, I might as well get a sample of this blood to take back to the laboratory as well…"

"There's nothing in here!" called Jérôme. "Just a bunch of broken furniture!"

"Well, there's something in here," said Étienne.

"Really? What?" called a few of the others, interested.

"A bed and a silly Bible!" he cackled obnoxiously, exiting the cell. "There's atleast one for every torture chamber!"

"Étienne, lower your voice down!" whispered Jane, frantically.

"Hey, don't start discriminating now!" yelled Christian, walking towards his so-called 'friend' diagonally from him across the room.

"Oh, you're just saying that 'cause your name's Christian!" Étienne countered.

"Alright, stop already! You're acting like stupid immature little children!" yelled the chief. Jane sighed tiredly. "Everyone, come here already," ordered the leader. The policemen hurried to the third cell to the right.

They immediately saw a small wooden table with the words 'Forgive me' written in dried blood as well as dragged finger prints. Under the words was a note- a sort of love letter. The Chief held it, and they all read the paper silently.

It said:

_"Justine, my love, I know I am not as talented as Malo or as strong as Basile, but I am certain my love is truer. Do not my scars tell you so? I will continue to cut myself as long as it pleases you. I would even kill Basile if you wish. I know you say you like it, but he is hurting you. I will trick him to consume the Bromide. Poor Justine, I will help, just ask me to help.  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_-Aloïs"_

Silence.

Chief Bernard broke it.

"That poor boy was sick," he said somberly. The rest of the crew frowned for a moment.

"But that girl was, too," Jane added. She picked what seemed like a tennis racket off the cell floor, half the head broken off. "Come on. Let's get going. And don't forget to take that note with you, too, as well as some blood samples.

"Yes, we have them already," replied Christian.

Suddenly, a cold breeze swept through the prison again as the troop made their way into the open. The men gasped in terror. He's here. The door burst open, and the blind man limped a few steps forward. The dark chasms where his eyes used to be made it seem as if he was staring straight at them. The policemen and girl stood frozen in place, trying hard not to breathe. Léon clumsily fell back a bit and collided with a barrel. "Ah!" he accidently let out, and he covered his mouth in shock.

The bleeding, mutilated man perked up and raised his voice, "Who's there? Justine?" He paused for a moment and then realized. "No, that isn't you…" He timidly walked forward, seeming to have detected where the noise had come from.

Chief Bernard finally spoke up, "It's the police! We're here to rescue you!"

"What! There are more of you! I don't want to go with the police! I just want Justine!" the man yelled back furiously, his voice resonating in their ears. He raced towards the team, the heavy metal chains doing little to slow him down. The men fortunately stepped to the side quickly, avoiding his lunges. The many footsteps seemed to confuse the miserable demon.

The girl yelled back pleadingly to Aloïs as he attempted to strike the police. "Aloïs! Please, I may not be Justine, but I swear we can help you!" The naked, malnourished man turned to her. The policemen signaled to each other when to grab the hysterical man while Jane distracted him. "Please, don't make this so difficult!" The walking skeleton approached the young girl gradually, and she suddenly froze in fear.

_'NOW!'_the chief mouthed to the other men. Jérôme and Léon sprinted forward and grabbed onto each of Aloïs's arms as Bernard and Christian grasped on tightly to his back and André placed his hands over his ears. Aloïs struggled frantically in the police officers' strong grip, screaming and sobbing and kicking as Jérôme and Léon brought his arms behind his back, and Étienne finally cuffed him. What a heart-breaking sight, Jane thought.

Aloïs gave up, his frail body seeming to collapse in the policemen's arms. He choked trying to breathe, whimpered miserably, and finally sobbed uncontrollably, "JUSTINE! WHERE ARE YOU MY-" he coughed and rasped wretchedly. "Oh, why? WHY!" he cried. The bloody tears streaming down his face were too much for the policemen. They felt terrible for handling him in such a way, but he needed to be helped- one way or the other.

Jane stepped up to the poor man and whispered gently to him, "Don't worry. It will all be alright."

The man then went silent- tired from his tantrum, but the collar around his neck seemed to have been squeezing tighter and tighter, making him start gasping and spitting out blood.

"Oh, no! We have to get him out of here- **FAST!**" Jane screamed, panting, with tears now in her eyes. The people hurried hastily back to the cell in which they had started while holding on to the withering Aloïs, encouraging the dying man to move his feet. He obeyed and attempted to move more quickly. Chief Bernard pulled out the walkie-talkie from his pocket and contacted the people outside to get the ambulance and the metal-cutter ready. The team lowered themselves back into the hole and practically sprinted their way back to the top of the cellar stairs. Thankfully, Adrien had not closed the red door to the cellar and was sitting on the couch in front of the window. Light was still pouring into the now ill-omened room and as the bright light hit their eyes again, the police and the girl had to flinch in pain.

Adrien looked up from his nap and gasped in shock when he saw the choking man with the carriage wheel around his neck. "What the…?" he mustered.

"No time to explain, Adrien! Come help us!" yelled the chief.

"Uh… okay!" Adrien stood up quickly and raced in front of them to open the front door outside to the open.

Present outside on the lawn were numerous police cars, a blaring ambulance, the rescue team, and four paramedics. They had already prepared the bed in which the patient was to be laid. Justine and Clarice, her maid and childhood friend, were being held, cuffed tightly, inside the passenger seats in one of the police cars. Three serious-faced cops stood firmly outside the doors, keeping a sharp eye on them.

The rescue team was already being directed into the cellar by Léon, as their chief had commanded. "Come on! This way!" he shouted, racing back into the mansion with the crew following him.

The policemen and girl quickly advanced towards the waiting paramedics. As they and the suffering Aloïs passed the police cars, Justine sneered in disgust from the inside of one. Clarice could only cry in disbelief over how her childhood friend could have lied so maliciously to her about the sounds coming from the basement. Justine had also previously blamed everything on Clarice, even though the cops were already too suspicious of her being named 'Justine' and how the seven missing people had all known her before disappearing.

The paramedics gasped when they saw the horrendous man as well, but were not hesitant to take him from the policeman's arms and quickly, but carefully, cut the steel wheel in half and remove it from poor Aloïs's partially crushed and bleeding neck. They took the two halves and placed them in a plastic chest with a red cross on it. They laid the gasping man gently onto the hospital bed and slid him easily into the ambulance. There they gave him sleeping gas, calming him down and letting the paramedics continue their work. The now unstrained man slept soundly and peacefully, though you couldn't tell at first sight for his now lack of eyes. The paramedics began uncoiling and unhooking the chains from his twisted limbs, placing them too into the plastic chest, and tending to his wounds, as two others closed the back doors of the ambulance.

"Will he be alright?" asked Jane, worried, with tears still in her eyes.

The doctor looked at her and said reassuringly, "Don't worry, he will be alright. Just leave it to us."

"Okay, but there are more people suffering down there," explained the chief, with an assertive voice. "We're going to have to need another ambulance or two."

"Don't worry. We'll inform them immediately once we get to the hospital." The doctor got back into the driver's seat and drove off, Aloïs now safe inside the ambulance's doors.

The chief turned back to the girl. "Well, we must get back into the cellar...," he told her.

"Yes, we must rescue the others," she responded.


	2. Part 2: Basile

**Help Arrives**

**Part 2: Basile**

Jane and the others ran quickly back into the mansion through the open double doors. They veered right into the living room and then left down into the cellar, treading agilely down the stone steps.

Adrien shuddered terribly when he saw the hanging man. "Is he…?"

"Just don't look at it," warned the chief police, not taking the time to stop moving.

They ran quickly through the dark tunnel, not even bothering to whisper when they spoke. Even though they were making much loud noise, the clamor helped them keep their sanity and nerves intact.

Arriving back in the prison, the six men and girl met up with Léon who was helping Dr. Fournier remove the sack over his head. He first attempted to untie the rope, but it proved to be too difficult of a challenge for him, for the ropes had many knots in them. He took two scissors from one of the rescue worker's bag and gradually cut through the ropes. The doctor pulled the sack quickly off of his head and panted wildly. His mat of blond hair was a mess and stuck to his sweat-covered face. He regained his normal breathing again and thanked his saviors.

"Thank you all so much for saving me!" he exclaimed, an exhausted smile on his face. "I will make sure to diagnose that madwoman as a lunatic!"

"Wait, are you sure you're fine?" asked one of the rescuers, placing a hand on the doctor's shoulder.

"Yes, I'm fine! Now let's get out of here… this place gives me the creeps…" The team escorted the doctor back out of the cellar.

Now the team of police and the girl were alone again in the misty cellar.

"At least now we can speak freely in this room," spoke André, placing his hands at his waist.

Jane turned to him, a weary smile on her face. "Yes. The other two can't get to us in here. They're too injured to slip through that tunnel in the ceiling," she affirmed, pointing to a trapdoor in the ceiling.

The cops focused their eyes on the oh-so-conveniently-placed door. "That's pretty high up, don't you think?" noted Étienne, eyes wide open.

"Yes, but we can just use these crates to climb up to it," Christian advised. He walked over to one near the cell Aloïs had been in and picked it up. He set it down squarely underneath the door and looked back at the team. "Hey, Jérôme, you're the tallest one here so would you mind pulling it open for us?"

"Not at all!" he easily said. He walked over to the crate and stood on it, grabbed the handle of the trapdoor, and pulled it down. He spotted what appeared to be another ladder in the roof. "Hey, there's a ladder in here!" he called to them.

"Oh, that's right," Jane said. She walked over to the wooden lever she told André not to pull previously before. "Now we don't need that other ladder and can simply pull this lever to make the proper ladder slide down; now that the doctor isn't held captive anymore." She pulled the lever down with a small grunt, and the ladder came sliding down like magic. The red spear inside the cell came down to the table, but now there was no need to worry as there was no man fastened to it.

"Sweet," called Adrien.

They heard a breathy moan echo through the narrow space.

"So… who's going first?" shook Adrien.

"I'll go first," said the chief. He grabbed onto the metallic ladder and placed his left foot on the second rung. He scaled up the silver ladder and waited for another cop to come up as well. "So? Who's coming?"

"Oops, wait!" Jane interrupted. The policemen looked at her attentively. She paced back to the door they had entered from. "Up there." She pointed to a floor of wooden boards nailed together to the ceiling. On the floor were a few crates along with a big pointless sealed box. "There's a very important phonograph cylinder up there," she explained, still pointing. "We need it greatly for the evidence."

"Okay!" Christian exclaimed. "I can get it for you, than!" He along with André quickly pushed a few crates together and stacked them high. Christian climbed up to the ceiling and felt his hand around the crates. He saw it out of the corner of his eye, grabbed it, and held it up for the others to see.

"Perfect!" Jane told him, excited that they would be able to prove what a monster Justine is simply with that cylinder!

Christian put the cylinder into his bag and climbed down the stack of crates. Now the attention turned back to whom would follow the chief up the ladder.

Léon walked up to the ladder and mimicked the chief's movements. Christian moved next, followed by Étienne, Jérôme, and André.

"Eh, I guess I'll sit this one out again," said Adrien unconfidently to Jane and then looking away. He folded his arms and stood still in the cold, dark room.

"Okay, then. If you want to stay here with the cobwebs…" Jane turned away to the ladder with a grin on her face. "and that dead guy hanging back there." She followed the others up the stairs and into the tunnel.

Adrien stood frozen for a second and gulped. He raced up the ladder after Jane.

The disturbing feeling of the unknown from when they first entered the cellar set over the troop once again. The tunnel was very narrow, with many twists and turns, and the team had to crawl practically on their bellies. The frame was square in shape, as wooden posts held the roof up every so feet. The air in there was damp and very thick, and the feeling of claustrophobia may have started setting in for some of them. They swore they could hear someone following them through the tunnel, as the shaft felt like it was getting longer and longer. Slugs and creatures crawled all over the stony walls. Cobwebs were plenty here, and constant confusion set over where to turn after finding many blocked roads. They crawled right then left then left again then went straight, but turned back as the road was blocked. They continued this frustrating and head pounding process as they bumped into each other and startled each other crazy.

Suddenly, they began hearing loud roars and breathing, and the tunnel started shaking violently. Panic and uncertainty set over the men and girl, making their hearts pound and their minds race faster than ever before. They panted and sweat and started screaming. Finally, the tunnel went in a downward slope, and the chief fell through the hole to the next chamber. Everyone else followed, screaming and grunting as they fell on top of one another.

The chief slowly stood up. "Hey, is everyone okay?" he called.

"Yeah…" a few responded weakly. Some placed a hand on their head, feeling a slight, fading pain. The chief quickly got to helping Jane and a few of the men up. They lifted themselves off the floor slowly, coughing and wiping the dirt and cobwebs from their clothing. They helped each other up and stood still, looking around and taking in their surroundings. The area they now were in had vivid lanterns, but the darkness again seemed to engulf the light. The sensation it gave was also similar to what they felt back in the dark passage before the prison. The walls and the flooring were also similar in texture, but now they felt slightly more edgy as there were many mounds of debris and stone lying about.

The cops all took their flashlights out and shown its light around, analyzing the room further. The men immediately spotted a trail of blood on the filthy floor leading around a curve. Some of them swallowed at the sight.

Jane looked in the opposite direction, not exactly in disgust, but looking for the phonograph that would play their message. "Oh, wait! Look there!" Jane announced to the men, pointing to the phonograph next to another caved passage. The team jogged towards it, semi-glad they wouldn't have to follow the trail immediately. Christian took the cylinder they had acquired out of his bag and placed it inside of the phonograph. Jane whispered," Now, I want you to listen closely to this recording…," as she cranked the handle. "You will agree that this might have been enough to prove Justine guilty of her crimes…"

The machine clanked and played out the secret message.

The cops first heard a playful laughter- Justine's. Then they could hear her talking to somebody.

_"Speak into the phonograph, Basile, mon chéri!"  
><em>_  
><em>_They heard a man groan sickly. "What did you put into the wine?"  
><em>_  
><em>_"Absinthe, silly Basile!" Justine replied with the same playful voice. "Strong men like __you don't drink wine. Wine is for helpless women- like myself!"  
><em>_  
><em>_The man moaned dizzily again. "My head… What is this thing? Get me out… I'm not up for your games…," He said nastily.  
><em>_  
><em>_"No!" Justine laughs. "You have to say it first! How beautiful am I?"  
><em>_  
><em>_"Plenty," he retorted. "Now let me out of this thing!"  
><em>_  
><em>_"No, that is not what you say," she scolded him, as if he were a dog.  
><em>_  
><em>_He groaned angrily again. "Your beauty is blinding."  
><em>_  
><em>_The man then let out a horrible scream of pain. "MY EYES! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY EYES! JUSTINE," he breathed. "THIS ISN'T FUNNY. YOU'VE BLINDED ME!"  
><em>_  
><em>_"Haha! Can't catch me now!" She teased.  
><em>_  
><em>_"I'LL KILL YOU, YOU WHORE!"_

The policemen's blood went cold, disgusted looks on their faces. Jane took the cylinder out of the phonograph and handed it back to Christian.

"Yes, that is indeed a very valuable piece of evidence, since we now have a full account of Justine blinding one of the victims on tape," spoke Chief Bernard.

"She isn't very intelligent now, is she?" chuckled Étienne. "Scattering all the evidence around for us!"

Jane smirked. "Well, she's tricky all right... But, she had to realize that her reign would have to end eventually. Not even her life can last forever."

The realization of the fact they had to continue caught on to the men. The team then stood in silence for a moment, apparently waiting for somebody to speak up, yet not really wanting to do anything.

"So… I guess now for that blood trail…" André exhaled feebly, his voice slightly trembling. The people hesitantly turned their heads back to the blood trail, anxious looks in their eyes.

Jane and the others walked silently along the messy trail and came to a door surrounded by multiple candles on two wooden boards. This time Jérôme slowly clutched the handle and pulled the door open.

The cops gasped in shock as soon as they saw a torture room of sorts behind the door. The trails of body fluid lead into a pool in front and around a horizontally placed torture table, stained with blood. Blood must have dripped off of the wooden table and onto the floor as well. A wooden wheel was attached to the side of the board (most likely used for tightening and loosening something), and there were cuffs built into it for the hands and feet. Two long wooden tables were placed side-by-side against the left wall. A smaller table stood at the right side of the room, next to the head-end of the bed. Large, burning candles were placed sparingly about the tables, and something seemed to be burning in a sort of stone hearth at the far end of the disturbing room. At first sight, though, what caught the policemen's attention the greatest were the creepy sketches and pictures hung up on the walls of the room.

The men stepped inside, attempting to avoid the blood on the floor as much as they could. Another phonograph stood to the right of the door they just opened. Jérôme wound it up silently.

The message rolled out; Justine congratulating them.

_"Congratulations for coming this far! I am so excited for you," she lied. "I do hope that you managed to save Monsieur Fournier… He was a friend… and a colleague of my papa, you know. Friendly fellow- a real bon garçon, but frail of mind. He puts up an impressive front, but this is all an act, I assure you. Please, go on. We are just getting started!"_

The message ends.

"Sicko…," Adrien mumbles.

The team looks around the room, some plodding around to get a better look of things. Most of the team goes over to the two tables to the side, examining the drawings on the wall more closely. Léon walks up to the hearth to examine what was burning and notices a sort of metal in the fire. _"Probably what was used to blind the men,"_ he thought. _"Blinding by holding a hot metal plate to someone's eyes was a sort of medieval torture, and since __this place is somewhat medieval-styled, I'd say my theory is correct."_ He turned away from the fire and looked at the small table beside the torture device. André was playing with the wheel, clamping closed a sort of vise, and Christian was silently reading the other papers on the wall to himself. Léon sets his eyes upon the paper in front of him- a newspaper article cut out from a newspaper. He remembered reading the same article before somewhere. He read it again:

_"Newspaper Article - 19 March 2014  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_**Travesty at the Conservatory**__  
><em>_  
><em>_Many Parisians had gathered last night to enjoy the performance of violin virtuoso, Malo de Vigny. It was to be the grand premiere of several new arrangements of songs by fellow composer George Bizet, but the evening took an unexpected turn.  
><em>_  
><em>_Young Malo de Vigny turned up visibly intoxicated. His violin cried as the bow was jerked across the strings. The audience seemed forgiving at first, but started to boo the man off stage as he defaced the beloved song, La rose et l'abeille. The stress apparently got the best of the young musician as he threw his bow into the audience and finally collapsed.  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_Mademoiselle Justine Florbelle, who is according to rumors romantically involved with Monsieur de Vigny, looked quite amused by the event and had two of her friends, Basile Giroux and Aloïs Racine carry him off the stage.  
><em>_  
><em>_The evening was saved by other musicians at the conservatory who were able to perform a most delightful impromptu concerto in Malo de Vigny's absence. The audience showered their saviors with praise and calls for encore were awarded with spectacular pieces by both Offenbach and Chopin."_

The others were still busy examining the two tables. They uncovered sick, diabolical knives and instruments on the tables, as well as a strange green liquid in a bottle that had apparently been spilled onto the floor. A few hand smudges were on the table with the tools. There were also cut pieces of rope strained out on the left table.

The four pictures they had observed on the wall were nailed in sloppily, but appeared to be diagrams and sketches of the plans Justine had for her three suitors. The first one to the left clearly depicted a similar-looking carriage wheel to the one around Aloïs's neck. The next one showed a raised hand with chains wrapped around its wrist, next to it showed the lower half of a person's body with chains wrapped around the ankles and lower legs. The next picture especially disturbed the men- that of a frightened, naked man crouching and cowering in a dark space, his hands over his face. The last picture was of a man's face, dazed with eyes seemingly burnt black, mouth hanging open. A light seemed to be held up to his face by something metal- like what you'd see being used to burn a marking onto a horse's flank.

"Hey, guys. Read this." Léon walked over to the others, now removing the images from the wall for evidence. Christian and André also walked toward him curiously. He showed them the newspaper article, and they read it intently.

"Hey, I read this before," noted Chief Bernard. "That Malo guy who made a fool out of himself onstage for being drunk."

"Yeah, apparently Justine was there thinking it was so funny," Jérôme grimaced.

"She probably did something to him the other night…" added Adrien.

"Yes, well, he must have been another victim if this paper is here…" Léon concluded.

"But, why are all these notes and clues here?" asked André, as confused as ever.

"Hell knows. All I know was that… that… bitch put me through this crap…," Jane murmured, an irritated expression on her face.

"Well, let's not stay too long in this room trying to figure out the answers to all these questions; we're wasting precious time." Chief Bernard had it right.

"Okay, then, let's move. There's nothing else to see here," spoke Christian. The men started exiting the room, but Christian noticed how Jane wasn't moving. "Jane, you okay?" he asked sympathetically. She heaved and stared down sorrowfully at the drawings of the men in her hands, not willing to answer. Christian waited by, trying to look at her eyes. They filled up with tears again, and she moaned unhappily. She gave the pictures back to Christian without directly looking at him and paced speedily to get to the rest. He watched her leave and then looked down at the pictures as well.

Christian walked out to the others as they were trying to open the sealed door opposite Justine's torture room. Étienne and Jérôme groaned painfully as they pulled at the planks to no avail. "Forget it, it ain't budgin'," sighed Étienne.

"Yes, but I don't think there's anything we need from that room anyway. I got to the end of this before without opening it," Jane mentioned.

"Okay, then. Let's head this way." The chief lead the men and girl down to the end of the hall where they saw more light. A half-circle grate window with iron bars was high up on the wall. Jérôme hopped up and down, trying to reach for the window.

"It's too high…" he breathed. "Jane, get on my shoulders to get a look." Jane stepped on his cupped hands and was pushed up to see. She grabbed onto the bars frantically, thinking she'd fall over, and peered out through them. Nothing; just more stone.

The team walked down stairs to the right and continued walking down the stairs to the left of them. At the end there was a beautiful large red door, crisscrossed with golden designs and a four-pointed star shape for the handle. Above a horizontal line at the top of the door were two swirly patterns on both sides of a saintly cross. On each side of the door was a red flag hanging down each wall. At the top of each flag was a black eagle from the Prussian flag.

"Ooh… Pretty door…" André placed his hand on the door and glided it across its surface.

"Let's advance through," spoke Jane. André grabbed the golden handle and pushed it open. He stared in awe at the massive hall and looked around. There was a phonograph in front of him, a row of about three chandeliers above them and—

"OH MY-" he panted horrifyingly, clutching his chest with one hand.

"What's wro-" Jane shook and turned away tensely from a statue of a naked, cuffed man with his hands in front of him, looking down in shame. She regained her breath and looked back at André. "Phew, yeah, I forgot that guy was there," she tried smiling coolly. The others came in and closed the door behind them. Some were startled, some weren't.

Étienne stepped up closer to one of the statues to examine it. There were eight in total in the hall. "Aww, man, I know, I know. I've been kicked there, too."

Chief Bernard chimed in with, "This is no time to fool around, Étienne," and he walked over to the phonograph to crank it. Étienne chuckled and turned around to the phonograph.

_"On this next piece, you should be looking for some divine inspiration. Time to delve into your spiritual side! What do you see? Is the man begging for mercy- or is he being blessed? Perhaps both! Father used to say there are no right answers. Have the light guide you."_

The room suddenly felt far darker. What irony.

Reddish brown wooden beams covered the ceiling with pillars attached to the cobblestone walls for support. There were two doors on each wall, as well as a room all the way to the end of the hall. The doors here were also red, but not quite as beautiful as the door they used to get in. Many of the candles on the chandeliers were unlit, but they were too high up to lit anyway. A slight mist floated around in the hall, and the dark floors creaked under the people's feet.

The people stood there, indecisive where to go. "Uh… let's search through the rooms as one this time…" Jane murmured. The men nodded.

They first took the door to the left. It felt dark and murky inside. The men flashed their light around the room. A few empty book shelves against the walls and some crates and vases scattered around. Jane walked through to a few cylinder-shaped items on the shelves. She turned to them. "These are very useful tinderboxes- well, cylinders." She took them and carried them out.

"Tinderboxes?" André looked confused.

"Yeah, tinderboxes. They're used to light candles and fires," explains Christian with a casual tone of voice. "Haven't you ever heard of them before?"

"Well, we're in the year 2014; we use matches now…," responded Adrien dryly. Christian narrowed his eyelids and rolled his eyes annoyingly.

The team then took the door opposite to that one. This room was a stark contrast. It was nicely lit by a three-branched candelabrum and there was a neat desk with a chair in the center. A soothing painting of a tree and hills hung above it, and there were book-filled shelves around the room. A sort of study perhaps.

Chief Bernard approached the desk, slowly treading on the carpet. A few of the members checked the drawers and books for anything useful. The chief saw a strange square-framed object on the western side of the desk. He picked it up and gave it to Jane to examine it. "Oh, I forgot to retrieve another one from the last room. They're slides for a projector," she told him.

"A projector." He nodded. He looked to an open book on the far right of the desk and saw a page sitting on it. He took it and read it in his head while Jane went for the other slide.

_**"Results**__  
><em>_  
><em>_The tests have been going well. The most long term, and in a sense the most promising one, is the Light Box. Having Justine choose a slide, essentially a mood, for everyday is a great way to see the larger overall development of her mind. She definitely reads things into the slides I have not foreseen. Her remarkable imagination turns the characters into just about anything and she is able to effortlessly reduce all her experiences into one of the four character slides.  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_Using the Puzzle Lock has proven more difficult as she tends to always choose two slides with characters facing the same way. I have asked her why this is, but she doesn't fully seem to understand what I am asking."_

"Whose is this?" the chief asked aloud. The rest of the team turned towards him.

"I take it's Justine's father who wrote that," answered Jane, stepping back into the room. "He apparently used to conduct experiments on his daughter; not dangerous one's but, tests and things on her to study her developing mind."

Léon took the note and read it aloud. "Interesting, you know, these books are on the human psyche," Christian reported to the others.

"So it is true… Come on, let's explore the next room," spoke Léon.

"Hey, look another note," said Jérôme. "It was on one of the shelves of this bookcase." Léon took it from his hands and read that aloud as well.

_" 12 January 1995  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_Dear Monsieur Florbelle,  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_I am sorry to hear about your daughter Justine's unruly behavior. Rest assure that this does not diminish your work, nor does it make your idea of the natural developing mind less appropriate as a field of study. I have plenty of scholars here in London enthralled by your hypothesizes and stated that it could be one of the most important ideas of the modern era.  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_It has been suggested that the mind is not only molded by experience, but it could also be stricken with disease without physiological sign. Perhaps this line of thinking could be applied to your child.  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_I wish I could devote my letter to consolidation, however I write to you with a request. I require passage into Algeria and I need Frenchmen of good standing to vouch for my person. I am certain the name Florbelle would greatly speed the process and grant me the permits I require. It pains me to ask this of you in your time of distress, but if you could suffer my inconvenience, I would be greatly in your debt.  
><em>_  
><em>_  
><em>_Yours Sincerely, Herbert."_

The policemen and girl walked out of the room and turned to the door diagonally from them.

This room seemed like as if it were some sort of small library. The design felt quite awkward though, as there were two bookshelves against each other, standing with the sides facing the door. There were also bookshelves against the walls of the room, and many of the books were thrown onto or laying on the floor. A chair was also overturned on its side, and there weren't any lights at all in the room. The cops walked around it, searching through the shelves for any more clues. Adrien picked up a slide from the fourth board of a bookcase. "Guys, another slide!"

"Good," spoke Jane. The men were now at the back of the room. A large empty bookcase was standing, apparently blocking something.

"Hmmm…" Léon attempted moving the bookcase. "Grr… It's no use trying to move it by hand, but I know there's something this bookcase is blocking…"

"Exactly," Jane spoke. It's blocking the way to the next chamber, but first, of course, we need to rescue the man here."

The team exited the room with Jane in the lead. She opened the door opposite the library. Immediately the people felt something wasn't right. The room looked immense, and debris lay all across the floor- wooden planks, bricks, and whatnot. At the end of the room something seemed to have been built into the wall with a lever, two slots- one on top of the other, and a small barred window above them. Candles lit all across the walls, but the center of the floor remained untouched by the light. There were a few elegant tables with champagne bottles and chairs here and there, and portraits of people were hanging on the walls. The team decided to look around first before approaching the end of the room.

The police looked at the vivid portraits, trying to come up with whom each of the three people were. The one to the right depicted a beautiful and delicate middle-aged woman with black hair and pale skin against a greenish background. The first one to the left depicted a proud-looking man with a black beard and sideburns wearing a light-gray formal attire. The last one to the left was that of a young girl with short dark hair, a sort of mischievous look in her dark eyes. A rich family they assumed.

A deep voice called from behind the wall, "Wh-who? Who are you? Who's there?"

"We're the police. We're here to rescue you," Chief Bernard told him.

"Oh, thank Heavens!" the voice exclaimed. "How did you get in here? Have you caught Justine?"

"Yes, we have in fact." Jane smirked.

"You… You were that other girl, right?" the man asked Jane.

"Yes. I'm sorry I couldn't get you out of there, but Justine had locked the door behind me when I came out," she explained to him, lamentably.

"No worries, child," the man comforted. "Excuse me, officers, but could you please wait for me before leaving this cellar? When I am released from this chamber, I follow a tunnel in the wall out to the exit door."

"Understood," nodded the team.

"Okay, thank you, and may the Lord be with you!" he called after them as they left the altered room.

"I'm surprised you hadn't at least roll your eyes, Étienne," chuckled Christian, them already outside the room.

"Shut up," Étienne grumbled.

The team stepped into the dark room they saw at the end of the hall. The room was wide; extending left and right with those walls covered with bookshelves. In front of them- in the center- was a hollow box on wooden legs. The wall in front of it was pitch dark.

Jane walked forward with a tinderbox in her hand and lit the candle inside the box. A blue-ish hued beam of light cast itself on the wall. The others came forward.

"So we slide each of the slides into this glass lenses here." She showed them the clear slot held together by wood at the front of the box.

Christian took out the slide faintly marked '1' and slid it into the compartment. The first shadow cast onto the wall was that of a man with his arms wide open facing the left. Christian took it out and slid the next slide in. It was one of a man pointing a sword towards the left as well. The third slide showed a man kneeling down, appearing to be crying, and facing the right. The last slide showed a man standing tall and confident towards the right.

"Okay, so which ones do we use?" asked Étienne.

"I think four and three…," said Jane. "but it could have also been two and one…"

"Wait, you **think?**" André retorted.

"Eh...," she moaned. "Well, we have to be careful… We don't know what will happen if we accidently use the wrong ones…"

Étienne scoffed gladly. "Well, that will be one less priestly dude, then!"

"Étienne, how can you say that!" Adrien yelled. "So what if he digs that religious stuff? What did he do to you?"

"Whatever…" He looked away.

Chief Bernard sighed in tired anguish. "Just ignore him- he hates it when he's ignored," he whispered discreetly to the rest. Étienne mumbled something under his breath.

A loud rumbling roar broke in from the left side of the room. They all jumped back, breathing hard, and the men standing closer to that end ran back quickly towards the others. A door was boarded up- similar to the one they encountered back opposite the torture room. The raspy roaring and breathing felt so cold and close to their ears.

"Uh… Let's ignore it…" Jane whispered. The team moved back through the entrance to the room, making sure to keep their distance from the door.

They headed back into the room they had last been in and raced over to the end with the lever and slots.

Christian held all four slides in his hands. "Be careful which ones you choose, Christian," spoke Jane. The sweat poured down his forehead. The priest held his hands together, praying. The others stared fixedly at the slides in his hands. Which two would he choose? Four and three- or two and one?

Christian put a slide in the top slot and another below. He gripped the heavy lever with both hands, held his breath, and brought it down. The people heard a churning of gears and then a heavy clang.

"The door opened!" the priest exclaimed joyfully.

Calm and relief swept over the whole room. Christian exhaled and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his arm. The team smiled and looked at each other, relieved.

"Which slides did you use?" asked Jérôme.

"Four and three."

The priest called to them, "I will be on my way now! Take care, police! God save us all!" The priest slid his shackles off and stepped out of the chamber, his hands out in front of him feeling the way.

The team remained in the room. Christian looked down at the other two slides in his hand. "So, do we just leave these slides behind?" he asked.

Jane answered. "No. Evidence, remember?"

"Right."

"Take the two on the wall as well," the chief commanded.

"Understood, sir," Christian nodded.

"Now where do we go?" Adrien asked. "Not back to where the boarded door is, right?" He shook in dread.

"Of course not," the girl responded. She signaled with her hands. "The passage way behind the bookshelf in the library, remember? Come on!" She ran ahead of them out the door and through the opposite door. The others followed right behind. They trotted to the end of the library to see that indeed the bookcase had slightly turned to reveal the hidden passage to the next chamber. The hall was as filthy and neglected as the areas before yet, the walls and flooring now were of a different texture- not stone anymore, but actual wood and concrete. In fact, two wooden columns were lying messily against the left wall.

They followed the burning torches down the path until they saw yet another phonograph.

"Hey, these are getting rather annoying...," Adrien murmured under his breath.

"Tell me about it…," Chief Bernard groaned as he cranked the handle.

_"I wonder- is Father David with his God now? Maybe you helped him there. Don't you worry, I'm sure he didn't have a family. He probably wasn't even all that well liked. With the current political climate I'm surprised someone hasn't killed him already. We can't all be saved. Some don't even want to be saved! Yes, that is a comforting thought; saves us from trying."_

Christian talked out loud to the machine, "You… bitch…" He balled his hand into a fist, and his mouth stretched into a tight grimace. The others glowered irritably as well. That bitch's sarcasm was really getting on their nerves.

They turned to the right of the machine where they saw a wooden door at the end of the hallway. A large wooden crate was placed beside it- most likely empty or inoperable. A pretty long wooden stair case stood between the team and the hall's end, yet the shadows covering the door managed to give them a couple of ominous chills.

Most of the people gulped in anxiety as Jérôme clutched the handle of the door. He pulled it open and opened his eyes. Everything looked normal. There were many dark pillars here and there, as well as empty metal boxes. A few empty bookshelves hugged the walls, and sacks of potatoes lay here and there, but there were torches burning brightly on the pillars.

The team gradually stepped inside. Suddenly- like an art of magic- the torches all blew out. Probably just the wind, right? No- something was in the room with them. Their eyes started darting everywhere, hoping that they'd adjust quickly to the darkness.

They heard a door swing open at the other end of the room. Loud breathing ruptured from that end, and it felt like it was getting closer. It was Basile. He was coming. Jérôme glanced back at the door they had come from. Locked shut. Impossible.

The team crouched down, and in panic, scattered. He wouldn't be able to catch them all if they scattered anyway. They hid behind crates and hid in with the sacks of potatoes. The police assumed that this must have been what the man had lived off of while being trapped down here. Cruel, cruel monster that Justine.

The monster trudged around, cursing and spatting out threats to Justine, hoping that she'd be around to kill her. "Come out, come out wherever you are… I know you're around here somewhere, you cunt!" His failing breaths echoed in the now frighteningly murky room. The dark presence of the tattered monster in the room made the people's hearts pound rapidly and cold, sanity-draining shivers run down their spine.

Jane was hiding in among the sacks of potatoes with two other men. The girl mouthed to the policemen that they would be able to get around him quicker because he was the blindest of the three, but they couldn't understand. So, Jane mouthed to them instead_, "Blindest,"_ hoping they would be able to understand this shorter phrase.

_"Aha."_ They got it. But, they needed to rescue Basile as well, not just run from him- however tempting that felt

The hideous creature lurked over blindly to the area where Adrien was hiding- behind a messy stack of boxes close to the wall. His body trembled, his teeth were gritted, and his eyes were as wide as an owl's watching the man crookedly pace around his area. He really did look like Aloïs- in a similar state as him at least. Basile stopped, turned to the left, but only inches from the boxes. He heard him talking to himself- about how he'd murder Justine if he caught her. Adrien struggled not to stare at the blind man that was now dangerously close to him. He covered his eyes with his hands and pressed tightly against the wall behind him, trying his hardest not to let a sob of fear out. Just one mistaken swipe of that demon's filthy claws could kill him- if not immediately, than from infection.

Basile's footsteps and breathing were now heard getting farther away from the crew. Adrien opened his eyes again and slowly moved his gaze out to check. He was gone from his sight. "Phew."

Everybody turned their heads to Adrien. The idiot.

The monster quickly turned around towards the boxes André was hiding behind. **"JUSTINE!"** he yelled madly. Basile ran wildly towards them, but was broken off when he felt something shove him against the wall. "What!"

It was Léon, grasping hard onto the arm of a man much taller than him. Basile furiously punched him in the face, knocking him meters away from him.

**"LÉON!"** Chief Bernard shouted out to him. Basile turned to the sound of the voice in shock, and then felt someone running at him straight on. He grabbed the chief by the arms and flipped him right over his head with a grunt. The chief hit the ground hard, but he was still quite conscious. He stood back up slowly from the fall as he heard the others scuffling with Basile.

He had enough. "Stop! Stop! What is this!" the blinded man called out, confused, and in the policemen's hands. He called out, seemingly to nothing and between gasps, "Is this some sort of joke, Justine, you BITCH!"

"NO! We're the police!" Léon interrupted, being helped up by the chief of police. Adrien slowly came out from behind his cover, shaking terribly.

The resilient blind man seemed to tense up for a second. "The police?" Basile breathed harshly for a second.

"Yes, we were sent here in fact by a young girl who also wanted to get back at Justine!" he continued.

Jane now spoke, frightened nervousness in her voice. "R-Right! W-We are here to rescue you and the othe-ers."

"Wait, how did she know about everything that was going on down here!"

Christian spoke, "She was also taken down here by Justine. She believes that she was down here before. But, we believe there must have been someone else down here as well."

Basile thought for a moment, realizing how indeed the second person that came down here sounded somewhat different from Justine. He turned his eye-less, blood-streaked face towards Jane's voice. "Well, in that case, I'm sorry." He breathed. "I would never hurt a young girl like you..." His voice weakened, but then strengthened again, startling them. "**BUT,** I'll only go with you if you lead me to Justine… I want to pay her back for how she blinded me…" He chuckled darkly.

"Yes, we know. We have the evidence for that. But, we cannot allow you to hurt anybody- not even the prime suspect," Chief Bernard explained seriously.

Basile scoffed. "Fine. But, unhand me." He attempted struggling in the men's hands, but his body was getting weaker, making him just give up. "Okay, then… I'm choking in this, and day by day I feel like I can breathe less…" He struggled to say his next sentence. "So… I will… go with you, then."

The team smiled. Jane knew Basile would be more willing to cooperate with the men. Adrien cuffed him, and- grudgingly- Basile went along with the men. They found the door out of the dark chamber and did not look back even once.

"But don't try anything funny, 'kay?" said Étienne to the cuffed man. Basile gave a slight nod in response.

"And be strong," Chief Bernard spoke. "because I have a feeling that it won't be so easy getting out of this hell-hole."


	3. Part 3: Malo

**Help Arrives**

**Part 3: Malo**

The group of uneasy people stepped into a sort of short passageway lit with candles. A little farther from them was another phonograph and a door. The door behind them was actually made of iron this time, though it was heavily rusted and almost seemed the same color of wood as the other doors. Some of the uneasy people were policemen, confused as to why everything was the way it was in this world. One was a curious, reckless young girl- only caring, though, for the other's safety. And, one was a seething, blind man holding a dangerous grudge, silent now- giving up the fight in the policemen's cuffs. All stood quiet, and the air felt heavy with this silence. The candles around the mob felt warm to their skin. This was the calm before the storm.

"Where are we now?" Basile asked, a sort of bright and curious timber in his voice, perhaps thinking that they had finally made it out due to the warmth in the light.

"In some strange sort of passageway," the chief replied, gazing around. Basile sunk back low again, a disheartened frown settling on his lips.

The candles ahead of them were unlit on both sides of the passage. The nine walked forward- cautiously and quietly. Only one candle was lit next to the phonograph. The chief cranked it.

_"I'm sure you have figured out how it all works by now. Are you enjoying my quips? I think they are quite clever."_

Basile breathed harshly and hostile now. He recognized that taunting, superficial voice coming from the phonograph.

"Calm down, now," Léon spoke tensely. Basile clamped his lips shut, trying to control his violent breathing.

_"Not that I was much of a conversationalist, poetry has always been my forte."_

"Oh, Jesus… poetry…" Adrien grimaced. The chief hushed him.

_"But I digress- if you press on it will all be over soon. Also, the police are here, maybe they can help you."_

The police officers shook. Basile gave a confused look. The cops knew she meant Inspector Marot.

"Officers, have you been collecting the cylinders on our way?" asked Jane, mostly looking up at Christian. He opened his evidence bag and counted the cylinders they had.

"Yes, we have all six of them so far," responded Christian, looking back up at her from the bag.

"Okay."

She grabbed the handle of the next door. This one was wooden. She gently creaked it open, feeling that too loud of a slam could ruin this sort of calming atmosphere. The hall behind the door was completely dark, and there was another door a third of the way in… a pool of water? The lighted reflections of the water gently glimmered on the old, crooked door. The water itself, though, wasn't so clean.

"Peeyuu~ What's that stench?" cringed Étienne, pinching his nose with his left hand's thumb and pointer finger.

"It's… it's sewer water…," Christian realized.

"It smells worse than…" he was about to say the name of the guy they were holding captive. Basile snapped his jaws at him threateningly. "Okay! Okay! I wasn't going to say anything!" He shook his hands in front of him in 'no'.

"The third of Justine's suitors must have swam down there from the grates at the first chamber…;" spoke André.

"Malo…," Basile said. The cops all looked at each other.

Chief Bernard waded himself in the water, noticing it was seeping in from under the door. He gripped the handle and pulled it slowly open, fluid friction acting on the door heavily.

Jane gulped. "Um… He's the most dangerous. I swear I barely escaped alive. He won't stop even if you aren't Justine."

The men looked back at her with scared expressions on their faces and horrified looks in their eyes.

"Well, it's not like he's going to be trying to eat us or anything!" Étienne joked.

Jane gave him a serious and dark expression.

"… He is?" Étienne then said, eyes wide open.

"Well, a psychotic, cannibalistic, violinist lover. How sweet." Jérôme noted, following the others into the dark, aquatic room.

"It's a real shame how a man with so much talent could be reduced to that," spoke André, admirably yet despondent all at once.

"No, we'll fix him, I promise." Jane smiled optimistically.

The room was dark and flooded by nasty sewage water. They could barely see anything, but they could make out what seemed like two large generators or something in the center. Chains inexplicably hung from the ceiling, and crates and metal cages floated around in the water. Jane pointed the men to a door at the far right side of the room. They went trudging along silently, hoping they weren't making too much noise with the splashing water.

They opened the door, and followed the lit watery path to another door. They opened that one as well and came to a room with many floating crates and a few tables and shelves here and there. Jane grabbed the piece of broken lever off one of the tables. She turned behind and reached for a box on top of a shelf. She pushed it away and grabbed the note underneath it. She gave it to the chief, and he read it aloud.

_"7 July 1995_

_Monsieur Florbelle,_

_My name is Daniel, a friend and colleague of Professor Herbert. As I have come to understand, you are among his most trusted friends and confidantes, therefore I shall reveal my predicament in hope that you can shed some light on the matter._

_Earlier this year, Herbert and I set out on an expedition to the deserts of Algeria. While looking for the legendary tomb of Tin Hinan we happened upon a cavern temple buried deep within the sand. In its inner sanctum I retrieved a stone orb which cracked and split into several pieces. Due to exhaustion, I was sent back to Britain and awaited his return._

_I have since lost all contact with Herbert and I find myself deeply troubled by the whole affair. I believe Herbert knew more than he was telling and that he sent me back to protect me from whatever ancient horror we may have stirred._

_If you can share any insight on the matter I would be most grateful._

_Forever in your debt, Daniel"_

The girl and men made their way back outside. They followed Jane as she lead them to the front end of the flooded room. There was a long black gate with a place for a lever beside it on the wall. Jane wedged the lever into place, and then turned back to the officers and Basile. Vibrations rippled through the water with every flinch and turn of their bodies.

"Okay, so as soon as we push this lever up, this door will lift up, but Malo in that room over there," Jane pointed to the wooden door to the far left of the flooded area, "will also be alerted, so we need to be very quick in entering and pulling another lever in that room."

"Wait, so how are we going to catch him?" asked Adrien.

Jane explains calmly. "Inspector Marot's life may be more at risk right now, and besides- Malo is too unstable to deal with right now, so we need some sort of plan to catch him."

André spoke up this time. "Maybe we can, like, tranquilize him or something?"

"That's a very good idea!" said the leader of the team of cops. "But, do we have anything to tranquilize him with?"

"Uh… I think I have a tranquilizing gun in here somewhere," said Christian, digging through his bag. "Aha! I do have one!" he exclaimed.

"Excellent, but we don't need one precisely at this moment," replied Jane, smiling. Christian placed it in his pocket, for when they would need it he would be able to pull it out quickly.

"Okay, so now I'm going to pull it…," Jane breathed nervously.

"If you want, I can," the chief offers.

"No, thank you," she turned down. "I'll do this by myself." She wrapped her bruised and dirty hands around the wooden lever and pushed it up. The door lifted up smoothly, and a man's raspy scream was heard coming from the left of the room. "Go!" Jane alerted. They all ran in through the gateway immediately and pulled down the lever on the other side, closing the door. They turned around but stayed put- at least for enough time to marvel at the centerpiece of the room.

Four white pillars stood at the center, around a platform raised above the water with steps. The pillars had railings near the bottom ends, lined with candles, and the stone itself was engraved with neat designs. Several spiked rusted metal cages hung around the attractive structure; some had snapped and were lying in the water. For a moment, the cops wondered if Justine had ever used one.

Adrien immediately jumped at the pounding on the door behind them.

"He's going to keep doing that until he breaks through the door!" Jane shouted.

They all panicked. "What! He's going to break down the door!" Christian yelled.

"He did last time!"

The men raced to the door on the right, Jane in the lead. Through the passage, they noticed steam leaking from the pipes above them- presumably only water vapor. They swung another door open. This room had shelves, tables, and candles lying about like the others, but on the wall there hung buzz saws and pliers and hammers. Jane lifted a rusted cog wheel off the table in front of them. "Come on, let's go!"

The team raced back, splashing through the water carelessly, time racing past. They heard loud pounding as they whizzed past the center structure. It wouldn't matter any way. Malo was bound to sense where they were, and if he couldn't catch one- he could catch another.

This passage thankfully did not have a door, and instead only had a simple stone doorframe. The second door was already half-way open. The team couldn't tell if this was intentional or not. Jane held the cog vertically to get by the half-open door more easily. There was the machinery. Silent- for it did not function without the missing cog. Oil and steam were pouring in gushes from large pipes with valves.

Jane was helped by the others fit the cog into place. Immediately the machinery sprang to life- clanking noisily and spinning the cogs with all its might. The rattled team splashed back to the lever beside the next large gate. Only now it would work.

As soon as Jane grabbed it they all heard Malo's mad breathing break through the reinforced door. They gasped alarmingly, but made sure not to make… eye contact with the madman across the room. They all ran inside and pulled down the lever on the opposite side again.

There were two doors to the right with valves to the side. One was closed shut and the other- wide open.

"Chief! You go turn the valve and close that door! The inspector's in there!" Jane shouted to him. "We'll go buy you some time!"

The chief shuddered in panic, but did so as the girl said. He ran to the valve and pushed clockwise. Wrong way; precious time wasted. He turned it the other way, but as soon as he was only half-way done, they all heard the violent sound of steel bursting apart like an explosion. The others hid behind two rows of long bars with shackles hanging down the side. Suddenly, the sound of Malo's breathing was all they could hear. Sweat poured down Chief Bernard's face. Hurry, hurry! He turned the wheel faster. Then suddenly he heard a loud splash behind him. He turned around, and in terror, held his arms out in front of his face. He screamed in pain as he felt the stinging, ripping tear down his left arm. He was knocked down off his feet and landed with a large splash in front of the partially-closed gate. He scrambled madly inside as Malo brought a large clawed hand down into the water with a huff. Chief Bernard stared into the demon's empty crazed eyes- of which he had none. He flinched and closed his eyes when he thought Malo had sensed him. No; nothing. The chief opened his eyes again. Could it be that the cannibalistic madman wasn't flexible enough to get under the gate? No, of course not- the large wheel around his neck did not permit him to do so. Malo turned away from his target.

The chief breathed a loud sigh of relief. But, then, he felt the stinging pain once again. The large gash down his arm wasn't very deep, but it still stung like hell. He shredded a piece of fabric off his dark-blue uniform and wrapped it around his wound. Blood trickled into the filthy water and clung to the blue fabric, engorging it in red.

The officer then heard a murmur behind him. He turned his head to Inspector Marot. He was shirtless and had a dark sack over his head similar to Dr. Fournier. He hung, slightly dangling forward, from shackles chained to the wall.

_"Malo's meal…"_ Chief Bernard thought, but then shook the unpleasant thought from his head.

"Hello? Can you help me?" the periled man muffled in uncertainty. He had been sleeping- well, trying to- in that uncomfortable position. "If you can get me out of here, I can call on my men to save us from this hell-hole."

The chief stood up from the dirty water, the water level right at his knees. "No need, Inspector Marot," the chief spoke, barely above a whisper. "I am Chief Bernard Carré, the new Chief of Police in Calais. A band of policemen and I are already here to rescue you and the others. Don't worry- we'll get you out." He took a glimpse at the fleeting reflection of the suitor. "Well, at least we're safe in here for now…"

Back outside, everyone else was frozen in fear. Standing in the water, they struggled to not make any sound. Malo rasped and wheezed, wading around in the water whispering out threats and chuckling madly to himself. "Justine, Justine… Come out, come out wherever you are~" he sang. Christian gradually reached into his pocket and set his fingers on the handle of the tranquilizer gun. All he needed was one shot, and they would be able to rescue Malo.

André stood behind the barred row to the center right; his hands tensely wrapped around two bars. Malo turned, wheezed a bit, and seemed to look right at André. Cold drops of sweat rolled down André's forehead. "and your friends…" he added. André stared right at the bleeding man, too afraid to turn his head or close his eyes. The gaze broke, and the blind, blood-thirsty man continued his stroll around the chamber. Christian clenched onto his gun. He couldn't shoot- not when he wasn't allowed to move from his spot, and the demon was moving further away from his post. Christian was behind the second bars along with the others. André was damned to be behind the first, along with only Étienne (who technically was useless).

Malo stalked around and back to the first bars. André and Étienne trembled uneasily. The blind suitor sloshed around the first end of the wall and was headed straight for André. As he approached, everyone stood completely still, and André could feel his hot raspy breathing on the side of his face. He slowly moved his pupils to the side of his head. Malo's eye sockets were streaming blood like the other suitors, but this one had a sort of crazed smile on his face that horrified André. He knew that Malo would eventually know they were there.

Malo smiled a crooked grin. "I seeeee youuuu…"

"Aah!" André gasped.

The demon raised his hand to strike the terrified André. "Bonjour~"

André screamed in terror, but got pushed out of the way by Étienne. Malo's blow struck Étienne down his back, leaving behind a large, bleeding wound. Étienne grunted in agony, but there was no time to just lie around in pain. André pulled him by the arm out of the rabid suitor's radius and ran around to the other side of the bars. Malo growled like an animal and lunged behind him at the bars. The others became alarmed and raced out through the water to help them, leaving Adrien with the cuffed Basile.

Basile squirmed. "Quick! Let me out of these cuffs!" he yelled at the spiteful Adrien.

"You're not going to turn on us, are you?" he questioned sourly.

"Why would I, you idiot!" Basile yelled back. Adrien eyed him, untrusting, but released him anyway. Basile felt his way around the bars and made his way to Malo, who was thrashing around in the water, trying to get at the others. "Malo!" Basile yelled at him and placed a tense hand on his left shoulder. He stopped, turned around, and sunk what little rotting teeth he had left into Basile's hand. Basile scrunched up his face and screamed in pain. With his other hand, he pulled Malo away by the iron wheel. Malo choked and let go of his bite. He went sprawling far from Basile, coughing and gasping wretchedly before reaffirming himself in an offensive position. Basile grimaced in disgust, feeling the ache on his left hand, and Malo licked the blood off his lips. He turned his head to spit it out in the water and then moved his head back to face Basile's. They both stood still, locked in a battle of who-would-make-the-first-move.

Basile spoke up, "You know what, Malo? I never liked your cockiness nor your violin playing."

Malo replied back, his French accent more pronounced than the other's. "Haha, you were just jealous, not only of my talent, but how Justine left you so easily for me." The other suitor seethed in anger, frowning very prominently. The others made sure to stay back from the scuffle.

He counter attacked. "Well, she was a whore, anyway." He smirked.

Malo cackled. "Yes, I guess she was…" Without warning, he dashed forwards, knocking Basile into the water. They wrestled, beating and scratching each other with their claws. Basile made a gun sign with his hand that Malo did not seem to notice.

_"This must be the sign!"_ Christian realized. He pulled out his tranquilizer gun and aimed it shakily at his target. He pulled the trigger several times. Nothing. He looked at the gun. The idiot! He forgot to check for bullets! Quickly, he rummaged through his bag to see if he had one. Aha! One measly dart. He loaded it into the gun and took aim once more. Now Malo had taken the upper hand, straddling his waist, and attempting to drown Basile by holding him down by the wheel. Christian panicked but locked up the gun with his target and shot Malo in the back. Malo stopped his actions and slowly dropped into the water with a splash. Basile hurriedly pushed him off of him and gasped for air, coughing and sputtering. He felt for Malo's body and picked him up from behind. He was sound asleep.

Chief Bernard put the cuffs on Malo, and Jérôme put a dog muzzle on his face.

"Whu-?" said Étienne.

"It's necessary," explained Christian. "if he wakes up again."

"Yeah." Étienne smiled weakly. He flinched in pain as André patched his bleeding back up.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" asked Christian. He nodded weakly.

"And you, Chief?" asked Jane.

"Of course," he replied. "The wound isn't too deep."

"So when do we get going?" asked Inspector Marot, losing his patience. The people had used the tools from the previous water rooms and smashed his shackles off, thinking that it would just be easier if they get him out of there now, instead of leaving it to the rescue team. He had dark blond hair and fierce blue eyes, and he was still shirtless and felt rather cold.

"We're going now," responded the chief. They let Léon and Jérôme carry Malo's skeletal body in their arms, as Basile was now even weaker from his injuries, noticing how he had an even deeper wound mark on his neck than before.

Everyone approached the last gate as Étienne walked up to turn the valve. The gate lifted up in unison with the turning, and the whole team was out in no time. There was a wooden lever on the other side, and Jane pulled it down. The gate closed.

Now they were in a very dark hallway again. Crates blocked their path, so they moved them out of the way. The hall ascended up in cobblestone steps and went right, left, then right again when it followed up steeply in a staircase. Two candles were lit right beside the stairs.

Again, the team came to another door, similar to the last one after Basile's chamber for the fact that it was surrounded by candles on boards and the door was made from rusted iron. Jane opened it and the large group came to another brass-colored phonograph. Two stone pillars on the walls had lit torches on them. Jane cringed as she cranked the handle on the phonograph.

_"Inspector Marot, are you still with us?"_

"Yes, I am." He smiled fakely and rather disgustedly.

_"I'm looking forward to seeing if you managed to save him or not. I know very little about him, but surely he had a family, don't you think? Poor, poor fatherless children, but he falls on his own sword."_

The inspector tensed up, unwilling to hear anything else. "Let's move."

"Wait," spoke Jane. "We need all cylinders."

_"His kind is not meant to come for people like me. Laws are made for cretins."_

The earth shook slightly.

_"The aristocracy doesn't need to know right from wrong. We are always right."_

The tape ends. Christian takes out the cylinder. The large group of eleven continued on to the next room.

What the cops see is unbelievable. Dirt covered the whole expanse of the floor in this room, and endlessly tall, slender pillars leading up to infinity had lit torches on them. The dark room seemed to scream an ominous silence as they made their way through. They saw piles of dirt lying around as well as open holes. Graves? They saw unmarked gravestones beside the large holes. The uncomfortable aura in this room made the men unwilling to separate. They all walked cautiously together.

Another passage in the wall surrounded by pillars lead the group to a room with a white statue of an angel. Beautiful she was, but her hair covered her face, and a strange, threatening feeling came over them.

"It's almost as if… her beauty is blinding…," Jane spoke. Everyone got shivers. Basile felt like throwing up.

They left that area and walked across the eerie area to another room. This one had a special grave. The hole was empty, but lit candles and withered flower petals lay around the open grave. A large gravestone was planted at the head, with a beautiful bas relief of the Prussian black eagle. Behind the gravestone, a shovel lay against the wall. A note lay strewn on the side of the grave. The chief picked it up and read it aloud.

_"Le 2 février 1995_

_  
>Herbert,<em>

_I have contacted the consulate and they will send you the permits you need for visiting Algeria. I wish you good luck on your search and that your findings will come at a lower price than mine._

_I am at loss with my studies. My daughter has become distraught and distant. I did very little to control her behavior, yet I believe the very notion of my observation has made her this way. My scientific indifference to our tests has not left her with an indifferent opinion. She finds my lack of reaction disappointing. She judges me, and most importantly herself, by the results of these tests._

_The reason I have trouble finding any consistency within her character, is because she tries to different approaches to provoke me and her actions only become more and more disturbing. Yesterday I lost myself and scolded her, she was terrified and humiliated._

_It saddens me greatly to bring my studies to a close without seeing it to the end, but I can no longer justify my research, I have to mend my relationship with my daughter…"_

The team left the room and walked outside. They saw numerous other gravestones and tombs, none with any names or bodies. Adrien glanced for a second in one of them and thought to have seen a mutilated corpse, but then it was gone in a flicker. He tried to shake the troubling image from his head, hoping he was just imaging what he just saw.

The group continued forward until they came to another phonograph in front of a door. There were light-tan pillars around, closing off this section from the rest of the room, and stones on the ground accumulated further to create a floor. Most of the people groaned annoyingly when they had to crank another one. Their hands were tired and swore from their mission.

The message rolled out:

_"Well done! You have triumphed; conquered my cabinet. I wish I could tell you how well you did, but alas- this is only a recording. You will have to figure it out all by yourself. Did anyone survive? The doctor? The priest? Or perhaps the policeman."_

"They all did," Jane interrupted bitterly.

_"Who was allowed to live? Why? You should really collect on these past events and consider what they meant to you, what you have learned about your true nature."_

There was a noticeable silence in the recording, but it still kept going.

_"Father never knew me. He thought he did, but then he was frightened and nothing was ever the same again. I can still see him… lying there on the floor… He looked so surprised… -The star-shaped soapstone stained by his blood, fell to the floor with a sonorous thud. Blame me not for I was but a __mere child, with careful ambition I dared a smile…- Rest in peace, papa."_

"Psychotic bitch!" Basile huffed angrily and kicked the phonograph down. It lay there for a few moments, everyone seeming satisfied by the sound of the phone cracking on the ground. Nevertheless, they needed that cylinder for evidence.

Everyone ignored the illustrations of dead bodies that covered the wall by the door, and simply just went through it. This felt strange. They were so close to the surface- they could sense it- but the eerie, cobweb-filled hall before them seemed to kill their hopes. The stone walls were terribly dark this time and there were red writings scribbled onto them. They said mad things like, **'WE MUST HURRY, IT'S NOT TOO LATE'** and **'IT WILL BE THE END OF EVERYTHING.'**

"What is this mess?" everyone seemed to be asking. A sickening, disturbed feeling overcame their stomachs. Soon they found themselves running past the now illegible handwriting. Everything whizzed past, but their immense fear did not cease. Basile and Malo were lucky for what they were missing. **'THE TATTERED YELLOW-' 'THROUGH THE GATES' 'STAY ALIVE' 'SUFFER THE TAINT(?)' 'I AM EMERGING' 'WHAT WILL THE PERFECT SPHERE BRING'** Round and round they went, feeling as if they were running for their lives, panting and breathing and crying. They then passed **'PLUMMET THROUGH THE ANGIENT CITY'** written in white instead of red, and Jane knew that they were close to the exit of this infernal labyrinth. They veered left and opened the wooden door leading out. They were back at the first room- the stony annex. The man still hung from the ceiling, but the door to the outside wasn't visible anymore. Suddenly, the shirtless, dark-haired priest came running through the door behind them, calling to them, "Police! Wait for me!" He huffed and panted. Just in time before the door locked tight behind them.

The recording from the ceiling played.

_"And so it comes to an end. Now that you see what you truly are, you are able to go on and face eternity without fear- without doubt."_

The cogs in the wall began clanking furiously, and the whole room started to rumble. Everyone looked around madly.

Basile yelled, "What's going on!" above the noise.

The walls began closing in on them. Léon and Jérôme left Malo's body lying on the ground to go see if they could stop the walls from closing. Basile stayed back with Malo. Jane panicked. Were the walls really closing in now? Had Justine altered the system to completely clamp the walls shut this time? The men tried jamming stones and crates into the cogs, but they only bounced right out with a dangerous spark. They tried pushing against the walls, but they knew that would have no affect at all. They called out, but nobody would hear them.

Jane walked back to Malo's unconscious body lying on the floor and laid his head in her lap. Étienne shouted at her, "What are you doing sitting so calmly there for? Don't you see that we're all gonna die?"

She looked up at him. "Maybe not," she stated optimistically. The walls were closer now and the twelve people were cramped together. Some could already feel the pressure of the walls on their skin. They all held their breath- and each other, the light above the wooden beams that the man hung from shining down on them the whole time.

The walls stopped.

They began moving out again. Everyone began smiling, their spirits raised.

"Oh, praise the Lord!" called the priest, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Indeed! Thank Heavens!" Étienne laughed joyfully.

"We did it…," Léon spoke up, smiling.

"I knew we could," said Jane. Everyone embraced and called out happily how it was all over. How they had finally rescued everyone. How they had finally caught Justine.

The wooden dungeon door now showed itself; the same place as always. They opened the door and raced up the familiar cellar stairs without looking back; without thinking again of that terrible nightmare. The lit candles on both sides seemed brighter now.

Chief Bernard swung the red Victorian door open, the light from outside still shining brightly. Basile began to smile the happiest. Malo began to move gently in their arms. For a moment, they all felt the warm sunlight on their skin together.


	4. Part 4: The End

**Help Arrives**

**Part 4: The End**

_ "You lying bitch!"_

_ The psychologist turned to Basile, who was now furiously yelling and shouting insults at Justine. The guards to the plaintiff's side rushed to detain him before he stomped over to Justine. He growled, "I'm tired of being held by cops like this! I wanna rip apart some flesh already!"_

_ The psychologist tried to stay calm. "No, Basile! Calm down!"_

_ "Order in the court!" yelled the judge sternly as he smashed his mallet against the table. The madman stopped at the thunderous sound and was walked back down to his seat. If he had eyes he wouldn't have stopped glaring at Justine. The cunt. Basile hung his head low as the psychologist began questioning him._

_ "Now, Basile. I want you to tell us what happened to you and Malo, as well as what actually occurred down in the abandoned cellar." Justine listened steadily on._

_ Basile sighed. "It's the same story... That... that... woman deceived us into kidnapping Dr. Victor Fournier, Inspector Felix Marot, and Father Hector and then almost killed us!" He cringed in disgust and anger. "And now we're wanting to kill her."_

_ Justine looked away and scoffed. "You are mad, Basile." She flipped her hair back and then said, "Honestly, how can you think a young lady like me would be capable of doing all this? You're all mad!"_

_ "No! It's true, Justine!" Aloïs cried. Basile tensed up again._

_ "We have all the evidence against you!" Basile spoke, again raising his voice._

_ "Calm down, Basile." The psychologist turned to the judge. "It's true your honour, we had a whole crew of inspectors and police officers investigate and collect the evidence from Justine's house."_

_ The judge looked surprised. Justine felt herself starting to sweat. "Well then- is that so? Pass up the evidence then."_

_ A police officer came in holding Officer Christian's backpack of evidence and handed it to the judge to inspect. Out of the bag he grabbed a paper-clipped bundle of letters and notes and plopped them down onto his desk. He peered inside the bag again to see about eight plastic film cylinders. They were all labeled with white tape and black marker._

_ "There's one with my name on it, your honour," called Basile, pointing to the bag. The judge tossed it to the man in the white tuxedo with a brass phonograph next to him. The man placed it in and cranked the handle._

_ The blood-curdling scene rolled out as the judge carefully read the diary entries in his hand by Justine as a little girl. The audience gasped when they heard "_My eyes! What have you done to my eyes! Justine, you'll pay for this!_"_

_ Malo sneered behind his dog mask. Basile frowned grudgingly. Aloïs trembled nervously. Justine was surely caught. The tape stopped._

_ "Oh, please! That is so fake." Justine rolled eyes, trying to be convincing._

_ Basile shot up. "How can you say that's FAKE! Don't you hear your voice and my voice in there! A-And all the other tapes!"_

_ Justine responded, "Oh, please, that was just a project I was working on..." She shifted her eyes back and forth._

_ "Yes, a project involving blinding men and leaving behind notes for your own pleasure is enough to rule against you."_

_ Justine stared blankly into the judge's cold, demanding eyes. "No... what?" Cold sweat poured down her brow. What madness was he saying! "No! Please, you don't understand-"_

_ "Silence!" he yelled. Justine's heart beat madly. "I heard that you also kidnapped a young girl to throw into your games. Her identity has been kept anonymous, but I'm sure you know well who she is." The judge eyed her diligently- her terrified wide eyes, her feminine hands balling up then loosening again nervously. "Tell us why you kidnapped her." In the audience, Jane sweat feverishly in her seat. The other cops sat next to her._

_ She heard a voice to her right trying to help. "Don't worry, just calm down and watch." It was André who whispered to her. He smiled, and she gave a stiff nod._

_ Down at the stands, Justine sighed heavily. "Okay. I can explain..." She glanced to the side to see the police officers conversing and then turning their heads to watch, a hostile expression on their faces. "Okay, the reason why I did this all was... for me. It was all a test for myself."_

_ There was hushing and whispering from the audience. The judge hit his mallet. "Order in the court!"_

_ "I originally did it to test if I was sane or not..." Her voice groaned. "but, that wasn't enough for my studies... I needed to see how a normal girl would respond: what would she do? But, it seemed that she survived..." The jury looked at each other. Jane sunk low in her seat. "That is why I needed somebody like myself at the same time! Somebody who was an orphan! Someone with no parents!" She gulped. "Like me..." and looked down to the floor._

_ "But, you killed your parents," the judge struck in return. The audience formed a ruckus again._

_ "No! Not my mother!" Justine screamed, tears forming in her make-up drenched eyes. "She died giving birth to my baby brother! That stupid brother I never met..."_

_ "Either way, you have no right to do this to others nor get them involved with your crimes. There is sufficient evidence here to pronounce you guilty!" The judge slammed his mallet down on his desk. "Case closed! Life in prison." Groups of people in the audience were beginning to get up and leave._

_ "No! Wait!" Justine screamed. Hastily thinking she yelled out, "I plead mentally insane!" Her glass shook as she planted her fists down on her desk; her hair now frizzled and lungs panting hysterically._

_ "NO, WHAT!" Basile screamed madly._

_ "No!" Jane shot up from her seat._

_ "Jane! Sit back down! Show some respect!" whispered the chief._

_ Justine stopped and looked back behind her to lock eyes with Jane. The tension surrounding them intensified. For a moment, Jane felt herself faltering in her mad gaze. It was not just a look of madness and hate, but a look of pure evil._

_ "You...," she breathed._

_ The psychologist grabbed the cuffed Aloïs by the arm as the cops grabbed the other men to lead them out. He snatched his arm away from him._

_ "No!" he screamed terrifyingly. "I must help Justine! She loves me!"_

_ "She doesn't love you, boy!" the psychologist yelled- finally losing his cool. Aloïs ran towards Justine, refusing to pay attention._

_ "Get the f*** off me!" Basile yelled as he thrust a cop off of him. Malo managed to break off his cuffs and rip off his dog mask and gave a crazy laugh. He lunged in the direction of Justine. The people were now screaming and racing like rampant animals out of court. Justine broke free and grabbed her glass of water off the stand. She smashed it against the floor between her and the guards. "Stay back!"_

_ Jane raced down the stairs as the three suitors came for Justine. The guards, in their fear of the monstrous men, retreated._

_(End flashback)  
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Jane breathed in a big, deep breath as she stood outside of the rehabilitation center. Under her left arm was a gift box wrapped in red with a white bow on top. The ticket attached to it had no name on it and was slightly stained blue- possibly from pen ink. In her right hand was a large bouquet of flowers. She had a good feeling over her, as if everything would go right that day- even if clouds hung over her head. It was about to rain. She liked the rain.

The center in front of her was a concrete white, and many large single-paned windows covered the walls; a large double-door stood as the entrance. Around the hospital she saw people in white clothing- presumably the workers there- helping puzzled- looking patients back into the hospital's doors. They had been seated outside on park benches, being counseled by the workers as well as viewing the beautiful trees and small birds. They were to let their mind loose and attempt to remember happy thoughts. Jane tried to look and see from afar if any of the men were the ones she came to visit today. No. One of the workers helping in a patient smiled and waved to her. She weakly smiled and waved back. He was a middle-aged man with short brown hair and somewhat blue-ish eyes. He seemed familiar somehow. He turned and continued into the center. Jane thought it would be best to hurry into the center now as well. Thunder cracked behind her as she made her way in.

She glanced back from the entrance of the rehabilitation center to the parking lot to check for her car. A few parking spaces to the right, she noticed two police cars on opposite sides of a green van. She smiled at the thought of the police officers coming that day to visit the three suitors, now progressing well in their recovery. Another reason why Jane was visiting was because today was the day that the three were to see again. The operation was experimental as it was a new possibility for replacing whole eyes, but hopefully, with time, it was sure to work.

The girl turned back to the inside of the center. Immediately she saw a man being wrestled in through the emergency doors by three men in white. He was frantic and yelling out obscenities at the men who were holding tightly onto him. His dark coal-stained hair was a mess and his sweater was in shreds. More men came in to wrestle him into the hallways. Jane stared very frighteningly in their direction, her eyes starting to burn from not blinking. A small group of women sitting at the waiting area started chatting noisily about the man. One said, "I heard that man was one of the few crazy enough to take a trip to Greenland! Exactly why escapes my mind, though."

Another woman opened her mouth and chattered back, "Yes, he was one of the rescue team sent to investigate that top-secret research base in Greenland! They say they got an email (practically a novel, by the way) from a man who said he was trapped in that place for a year searching for his father whom he never met!"

"Yes, wasn't he the physics professor from that important university in England?"

"Well, he might have been," said another woman. "But he was a real fool for going alone... that madman! Besides, that occurrence was well over 13 years ago..."

A woman scoffed. "As usual- going to investigate far too late..."

Jane turned her attention away from the wild story the gossiping women were talking about and turned back to her objective. In front of her she saw the lady at the counter behind a clear plastic panel. Jane walked towards the woman. "Yes, hello, how can I help you?" she asked, a pleasant smile on her face.

"Uh, I'd like to visit patients Aloïs Racine, Basile Giroux, and Malo de Vigny," Jane responded.

"Okay, may I have your name, Miss?"

"Jane Gutenberg."

"Okay, so are you a relative or spouse of any of the people you'd like to see?"

"Uh…" Jane froze, a confused look on her young face. Then she heard a voice from behind her.

"It's okay, she's with us." It was Chief Bernard. Jane turned around to see all of the men from the day they had rescued the six men from Justine's cellar. They had all been sitting on the gray-cushioned seats in the waiting area as well. "We were waiting for you," he spoke with a smile on his face.

Jane smiled gratefully. "Well, in that case," the counter lady spoke, a smile still on her lips, "you can all go right ahead in! Just wait for the doctor, please!" She grabbed the phone in her office and phoned someone.

"Thank you!" Jane said. The woman nodded from the phone with a smile. Jane turned her attention back to the men. André was carrying a strangely-shaped case with his right hand. The blond smiled brightly when Jane gave a look at the case. "Uh, André… Is that what I think it is..?" she questioned.

He held a finger up to his lips. "Sssh! It's a surprise!"

"Yeah, what a surprise, André," Étienne mocked. "Come on, we all know it's a violin."

"Shove it, Étienne," warned Christian.

"Aww, come on!" Why'd you have to ruin it?" André whined unhappily.

"Wait, that was a violin?" Everyone's attention turned to Adrien. "I thought it was a ukulele."

"Glad to know I'm not the only one lost here," Jérôme said dryly, turning away. The others laughed.

"Okay, let's stop it with the silly jokes," the chief chuckled. "Here comes the doctor." They all turned their heads to the hall from where the doctor, all dressed in white, was approaching.

"Yes? Policemen," he spoke. He looked at Jane. "and young lady, who is it that you wish to see?" the doctor asked politely.

"We would like to go visit Aloïs Racine, Basile Giroux, and Malo de Vigny, please?" Jane asked timidly.

"Okay, Mr. Giroux is in room 12- the room closest to us. Would you like me to take you there first?" he asked.

"Yes, please," this time Adrien.

"Then come this way," the doctor told them, signaling with his hand. The old team of men and girl followed him.

They came to a door marked "_12_" above it on an engraved rectangle of metal. The door had a small screen on it, which you could use to peer into the patient's room. On the outside, the group could see a completely different man from what they remembered. Basile was in conversation with a blond woman, apparently his counselor, seated on gray-cushioned chairs. Beyond Basile they could see a large hospital-like bed with a small table beside it. A small, empty black vase sat on the table, and- above it- a window overlooked the rehabilitation center's parking lot. Perhaps Basile had already known they were there. Wait, he was blind.

The doctor opened the door inwards. Immediately the woman and man moved their heads towards the creaking of the door. The rest of the team came in after the doctor.

"Basile Giroux," the doctor said. "you have some visitors here to see you."

"Oh boy," he said rather sarcastically. "Could it be my parents?" The rest chuckled.

Basile had changed considerably over the period of 6 months. His skin was returning to its natural color, and the hair on his head was beginning to grow back. He was wearing a white t-shirt and pants, but they could assume he still had some scars left from Justine's torture. He also no longer looked frail and skinny as it was clearly visible he was gaining back weight. It felt weird viewing Basile in such a happy manor, even if the first thing they noticed about him was that he had a white cloth wrapped around his eyes.

"No," Jane giggled. "It's us, remember?"

Basile recognized the girl's voice. "Oh, yeah… I'm really sorry for trying to hurt you guys back there," he apologized. "I'm much calmer now."

"Don't worry, Basile." It was Adrien. "You're here to get better." Basile forced a happy smile.

The doctor spoke up now. "So Basile, how have you been progressing? Good?" He walked over behind him.

"Good." Basile straightened his back up against the chair.

"Do you want me to remove the cloth now?" asked the doctor kindly.

"Okay…" Basile sort of tensed up nervously in his chair. The doctor slowly unwrapped the cloth from his head as everyone watched, crossing their fingers. Jane clenched on tightly to the bouquet in her hand. Basile squinted his eyes open, but then widened them.

Jane and the others smiled widely in anticipation. "Can you see?" Jane asked, not able to hold back the excitement.

Basile sat silently for a moment, the others waiting on him; the doctor desperate for an answer. His eyes were adjusting to the brightness of the room; the colors, shapes. He opened his lips. "I can see."

Everyone cheered. The doctor thought the implantation was a success. Basile gazed around the entire room. Though not really all that great and beautiful, it was all a wondrous new sight for his eyes. He turned his head back to the doctor, who was jotting down some notes in his tiny notepad. "Doctor, how did you do it?" Basile asked, amazement in his voice and in his wide, dark eyes.

The doctor explained, "Well, we implanted cybernetic highly-realistic eyes into your eye sockets, but first we had to rewire the nerves into the eyeballs and into the appropriate sensory part of your brain. It is almost impossible to tell your new eyes are fake, save for a few buffer issues." He smiled coolly, proud of his team's hard and delicate work.

"I don't care," Basile responded. "as long as I can see, a few glitches are nothing to me." He set his dark eyes on Jane, and then on the beautiful bouquet in her right hand. That couldn't be for him, could it?

"Here," Jane held out the bouquet to the grown man's surprised face. "These are for you." She dared a tiny awkward smile.

Basile slowly reached out his hand and wrapped his thick, work-scarred fingers around its white, plastic-embroidered base. He held it there- in his hands- taking in the brilliant explosion of color. There were red roses- as red as fresh, sour cherries. There were brilliant yellow tulips- kissed by the sun's light, as well as light green carnations- seeming as if cut to perfect shape. There were bright purple violets, as well as tiny forget-me-nots, sky-blue asters, pink and white clematises, orange gladiolus, and cloud-white daisies. He took a quick sniff at it. As fresh and as beautiful as it looked.

Basile looked back up at her, and- seemingly very touched by her kindness- uttered a muted, "Thank you..." He stood up from his chair and- still looking down at the marvelous bouquet in his hands- walked over to the small empty vase by the window. He put the whole bouquet in the vase, even though it overflowed as if it were about to burst. He stood back, and everyone gaped at it. The tall stalks of the flowers blotted out the window from view, but everyone preferred its beauty to the outside's empty, dull gray.

Basile walked back to it again and took a single rose from the bundle. Thankfully, there wasn't a single thorn. He had had enough thorns in his body back then with Justine. He turned back again to Jane and handed her the rose. "Please, I want you to give this to Malo," he said to her. "Tell him he's a great player." A sweet, thoughtful smile grew on his face. Jane smiled back.

The team turned to leave again. "Wait." Basile spoke again. "Adrien." He turned back to him. Basile held out his hand. Adrien bluntly stared at it. "Come on," Basile forced. "I know you've never liked me, but I'm sure we can set our vast differences aside." He smiled, urging Adrien to shake.

Adrien finally let out a fairly modest grin and shook Basile's hand enthusiastically. "Got it." They both laughed for a while.

_(Begin flashback)_

_ "Crazy girl!" the chief yelled, failing to pull her back by the shoulder. In a flash, Jane was there- in between the furious ex-suitors and the schizophrenic woman. She held out her hands to the chests of the men yelling, "Stop! Stop before you do anything to hurt each other!"_

_ Behind her, Justine eyed the back of her head with slitted eyes, then the floor littered with glass. A smile stretched across her red-painted lips. She gently bent down and clutched a shard in her hand._

_ "Please, Basile! Aloïs, Malo!" She yelled. "You must understand that even if Justine was a menace to your health right now... You have to understand that you must let some things go. Here we are now with out lives intact. The police will take care of her, I promise!"_

_ "We can help **them**!" Basile shouted._

_ "No," Jane said assertively. "Don't stoop down to her level." Justine grasped the shard in her hand tightly, furiously, blood leaking from her own hand. Only then did a police officer notice what she was going to do and yelled, "Stop!" But it was too late- Léon had come into the view and had grabbed Justine by the wrist. Jane turned around in fright. Justine glared at the interfering man lividly and slashed the same shard across his shoulder. He cried out in pain as blood leaked from his shoulder, clamping a hand on it. From behind, another officer ordered to detain her. As strong hands came around her wrists, Justine shrieked, "No! No! Stop! It's not just that! I was abused by Basile!"_

_ "I **am** Basile, you b*tch!" the man behind her yelled in her ear. Justine's eyes shot wide open._

_ "WHAT! UNHAND ME NOW, YOU BRUTE!" Basile passed her onto the real police officers who had cuffs ready. Justine was carried away out the grand doors of the court room, still screaming and cursing threats. "Wait, who am I kidding? I'm an aristocrat. I'm rich! You'll all see... when I pay my way out I'll-"_

_ "You won't live to get out," an officer whispered hostilely. Justine choked up in cold, lifeless silence, only hoping what he had said was merely a threat._

_ Back in court, Basile turned back to the others who were attending to Léon's wound. "Does it hurt?" asked Jane._

_ "Nope." He flinched in pain. "It's all right."_

_ "Thank you so much for saving my life!" Jane exclaimed._

_ "Don't mention it!" He flinched again. Basile folded his arms. Jane turned around and smiled widely at Basile._

_ "Basile!" Malo called loudly, facing the wrong direction. "Good show, /imon amii! But I did not see!" The psychologist was picking up his papers from the table in a messy stack while he attempted to comfort the weeping Aloïs. He sat in his chair, rambling on and on about how much he loved his Justine. Everyone else noticed and sort of quietened down._

_ "I... I couldn't even kiss her goodbye..."_

__(End flashback)__

Something beeped on the doctor's uniform as they were walking through the hallway to Malo's room. He took a phone from his pocket and answered it. "Hello? A-huh. Yes, I'll be right over." He hung up and turned bath to the others. "Sorry, I have an urgent call. A patient needs me. Jessica will take over from here." The woman who was helping Basile seemed to perk up. He left the team for another room. They all turned to face Jessica.

She giggled nervously. "Okay, well, right this way!" She led them to Malo's room around a corner. "Room 23! Go right ahead!" She opened the door and stepped aside for them to enter. She then entered last and closed the door behind her.

"Uh, he's stable isn't he?" Étienne joked, everyone ignoring him.

Malo was laying his head on his folded arms against a short table; a plate of untouched veggies beside him. His room was strikingly similar and utterly bland just like Basile's, and Malo was in a similar physical state as him as well. His hair was growing back, and a cloth was wrapped around his eyes, but he seemed to be in a really unhappy mood.

Jessica whispered to the others, "He's been really depressed for months now. Ever since he started eating normal food again, he's been really quiet and longing about something, but we can't seem to get out of him what it is."

André whispered to him, "Hey, Malo!"

Malo groaned and sloppily lifted his head off the table. "What? I don't care...," he contradictorily stated.

Jessica now spoke, "Malo, there are people here to see you~"

"I can't see them."

Jessica replied, "Oh, but now you will. Doesn't that make you happy?" She tried helping.

"I'd rather be blind than deaf. I… I honestly don't care." He let out a shaking, weeping sob and hid his face back in his arms.

André stepped up to him, the case unleaving his right palm. "Hey, Malo. I brought you something."

Malo perked up. "What? What is it?" he asked urgently.

"Well, can you clean out the table in front of you first, please?" he asked politely. Malo tipped the plastic plate of veggies over the edge of the table, letting it dump into the small trash bin right beside it. He gave a wide gleeful smile. Jessica frowned, insulted.

Malo reached both his hands out- reaching for whatever item it could be. His hands came to the familiar texture of nylon fabric. He thought his heart stopped for a second. He felt around the center of the case for the flap. He lifted it and then clutched the two zippers. He hurriedly unzipped the case, but halted right when he placed his hands on the cover to lift it. He swallowed and slowly spread the case as wide as he could. He sat there for a moment, not sure if this was true or not. He gently placed a hand on the violin's smooth surface and lightly glided it around, the tips of his fingers falling into the _f_-holes. He felt the strings, the bridge, the neck, the scroll. He then reached for the inside of the case's cover; his fingers falling on the bow's stick, his thumb gently grazing the hair. He tried to choke back the tears. "_C'- C'est-?_" He turned his face back to the others. "my Elizabeth?"

André smiled brightly at him. "Yep!" Malo could scarcely believe it. The others had a confused and surprised look on all their faces.

"No way… You actually took that old violin with you!" Christian exclaimed in amazement. André nodded.

"Man, and here I thought you just bought another one!" spoke Étienne.

"Nope! I just got it fixed for him so that it's almost good as new!" explained André proudly.

"Well, Jessica… I think I'm ready to see my violin now…" whispered Malo, his violin in his hands.

Jessica unwrapped the cloth from Malo de Vigny's eyes. He squinted a bit, but then focused his eyes on the reddish-brown stringed instrument in his hand and the bow in his other. Malo set his now piercing green eyes on the people who rescued him. He saw them all crystal-clear now with these cybernetic eyes. He won't have to use his glasses anymore; and this time, for the better. "You even took the bow with you…" He set the instrument down for a second and embraced André tightly, who was standing right at the front of the group. "_MERCI, MERCI, MERCI BEAUCOUP!_" he cried.

Malo stood back, violin gripped nicely by the neck, and fingers fitted onto the bow. After rosining the bow- which felt so strange after so long- and tuning the violin- which felt like an eternity to the crew- Malo promised that he'd at least play a song in thanks and in apology. He fit the violin under his chin, readying his fingers. "For thanking you guys- for everything…" He sniffled as he raised his bow to the chords. "It's a pretty old song, but I'm sure you might have heard it before." He began the intro to the song; a sort of chiming bell in their heads, swinging sharply and valiantly to and fro.

Jane started tapping her feet to the vaguely familiar tune. A sound she knew she had once heard in the old radio of her father's car when she was a little girl. What could it be? When Malo got to the main melody of the song, Jane and a couple others picked up on what song it was. "Hey… isn't it that "Always Something There to Remind Me" by Naked Eyes?" she shot up. Malo closed his eyes and hummed, "Mhmm." Malo lost all other attention to them and continued playing, lost in the music.

"_… and how can I forget you, girl?"_ André started, the others picking up at the chorus. "_When there is always something there to remind me?_" Malo continued playing joyfully, seemingly in his own little world. Bow up, across, vertical! It seemed to actually be singing, they thought, as they danced and sung along. Over at room 12, Basile sat up on his bed against the wall, arms folded. "_Always something there to remind me~!"_ Malo's violin echoed throughout the whole rehabilitation center. Basile closed his eyes and smiled.

Malo finished with a gentle lift on the a-string and a playful smirk on his face. His audience applauded and cheered as he dipped his head in a bow. "_Merci! Merci! Et aussi pour mon violon, Elizabeth!__"_

"I swear, my respect for the violin just reached a whole 'nother level," Léon said as he clapped.

Jessica whistled. "That was awesome, Malo!"

He smirked. "So... about that date?" he said in a flirty prominent French accent.

"Don't even think about it," she groaned. They all laughed.

"That was beautiful, Malo!" Jane giggled. Malo knelt down before her and kissed her hand.

"_Mademoiselle~_" he gave a toothy grin. He was certainly feeling better- just like his old self.

Jane blushed awkwardly and pulled her hand away. "Uh, Basile wanted me to give you this." She held the rose up to him as he stood up. He took it slowly and examined it carefully. He shut his eyes for a moment and smirked. He then turned his face towards the door and spoke. "Oh, that Basile."

"He said you're a great player," she added.

"Hm. Well, he isn't as well in something else!" he said playfully. The others stared at him strangely. "What?" he looked back at them.

Jane and the others walked down the hall to Aloïs's room. Suddenly, a thought broke out amongst the policemen and girl: it was interesting how not a single word about Justine had been spoken. It seemed that the treatment here at the rehabilitation center was working quite well.

Justine had been found guilty by the supreme court of France for kidnapping, attemptive murder, conspiracy working, and torture of innocents. She had been put on the death penalty- to the much pleasure of Basile- if only he knew. It was probably best to not tell him just yet, to not bring back any harsh memories. Maybe when all his hair grew back.

The group continued their way down to room 46, right before the elevators and escalators. Jessica stopped at the door, whispering to them, "Ehm, he's still a little... bit sensitive..." The others peered into the room. Aloïs was sitting all alone at a small desk, snapping his fingers to the music Malo began playing anew, a distant smile on his lips. Memories came back to the team. Memories of going to court and learning of what had really happened to Aloïs.

_(Begin flashback)_

_ "So, Aloïs Racine, what is it that she did to you?"_

_ "Who? Justine?" his voice trembled nervously. "Well, she..." A thoughtful pause. "She hurt me and blinded me."_

_ "And the others- was it the same for them?"_

_ "Yes," Aloïs responded. The men were in court- a wide open room with brown wooden seats and stands. The judge was at the front, his eyes and ears fixed intently on the conversation; his hand resting on the mallet. A psychiatrist was brought in to help the men speak. Justine was being held down in place by police officers; her eyes narrowed and glared at her three blind suitors, also being guarded by cops. Jane- now of age to attend court- and the familiar cops from the rescue sat among the audience towards the top back rows of seats._

_ "And what else did Justine do to you?" Aloïs inhaled sobbingly. Justine eyed him viciously._

_ "She... made me cut myself... She liked it... Or maybe it was my own obsession..." The audience gasped and murmured. Aloïs half scrunched up. "And... she raped me..." Aloïs lowered his face in a sort of embarrassed "de-masculinized" shame. The audience and the team of cops felt an unexpected wave of uneasiness and shock. Both Basile and Malo felt like gagging and paying Justine back..._

_ Meanwhile, Justine grinned wickedly to herself and reminisced... _

_ "But, the worst part was that I liked it!" Aloïs was losing control now. "Perhaps, all of it!" Two cops guarding the area raced over to subdue the Aloïs that was now standing up._

_ Justine stood up without warning. "I oppose. It is not true what he is saying."_

_ Aloïs snapped back in between frustrated sobs, "What do you MEAN is not true! You felt it, Justine!" His voice softened now. "I felt it... or perhaps I felt it more than you!" he shouted angrily at her. Justine stood silently; the guards now warning her to sit back down. He panted breathlessly._

_ "Well, even if I did 'rape' you, as you said- you enjoyed it, which actually made it sex," Justine quipped. The judge silenced her as it was not her turn to speak. She rolled her eyes in filthy annoyance._

_ "But, you threatened my life, and... I was confused...," Aloïs cried hopelessly._

_ "Then it is rape," proclaimed the judge. Jane and the cops, both feeling disturbed themselves, noticed the hateful glares at Justine from everyone else in the audience._

_ "So what?" Justine talked back. She leaned against the desk, and tried to act seductive. "It's not as if I did anything serious... The poor boy did everything to himself~"_

_ It was then that Basile stood up and threw verbal insults at Justine._

__(End flashback)__

"Maybe I can go in and reason with him..." Jane turned to the others. "I have something he might like..." She looked down at the large red box in her hands.

"Okay... Whatever you say will help," Jessica opened the door for her, and the others watched her walk in.

She looked at Aloïs, who was still looking distant. He looked like the others- hair growing (though his growing quicker), cloth around eyes, and the same plain clothing. There were some noticeable healing scars on his arms and wrists. Aloïs then spoke, slightly startling the drifting Jane. "I love that song, you know?" He then giggled. "Justine used to make him play all the time..." He turned to Jane. "But, worse- without a chin-rest!" He faked a "le gasp" moment. Jane laughed, recognizing the common internet meme and finding it amusing how someone so "rich and sophisticated" as Aloïs would understand something... like a well-placed pun. Aloïs stayed silent for a moment as Jane's eyes strayed around the room. They land on multiple vases filled with flowers. A giant red heart-shaped balloon floated up the ceiling with the words _"Get Well Soon!"_

"Hey, who sent you these?" Aloïs turned away from where he heard her voice coming, feeling rather embarrassed.

"Um... Those are from my mother," he blushed. Jane giggled, then looked back up. "Well, at least you have a mother who loves you." She looked down at the red box in her hands, worrying about its contents, wondering if it'll be enough of a gift to him. Aloïs spoke again. "Uh... what was your name again, Miss?"

"Jane," she said, blushing from the very polite "Miss".

"Jane..." Aloïs thought for a moment, then spoke again. "Thank you, Jane... for trying to help me back there..."

Jane smiled affectionately at the still un-seeing man. "You're welcome," she responded. Her tone changed now, slightly timid. "Hey, I've brought you something..." She unwrapped the box on the table in front of him. Aloïs waited calmly, though not understanding fully why she'd bring him something when he was the one who had caused so much trouble. "I'm pretty sure you'll like it, but now that I see those flowers, I wish I'd have brought you some, too..." She handed one of the items in the gift box to Aloïs. Immediately, he felt a familiar sensation as he gripped the handle. The feeling of running- here and there, swinging hard, sweat pouring down his face. He didn't need eyes to know what this was. He sat motionless for a second, holding the tennis in his hands.

"A tennis racket." His voice quivered. "How did you know I used to love tennis?"

"We found a broken tennis racket in your cell, so we assumed it was yours," she explained. "I wanted to give you that one, but it was broken beyond repair."

Aloïs turned his head to face hers and spoke to her as if he were responding to her other statement. "No... No, thank you. This is a better gift than roses... This I can feel... This is love..." He gripped the handle tighter and then loosened again. "This... is something Justine would have never done for me... actually think of me..." He fell silent again.

Jane closed her eyes, leaned over, and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. He gulped nervously and leaned over to give her a kiss as well. His lips instead landed squarely on hers. Jane jumped back suddenly as Aloïs pulled back quickly with a gasp. "It was a mistake, I swear!" he pleaded, face glowing red. Jane blushed and smiled to herself.

"Don't worry! I know!You can't see!" She replied in the same frantic manner.

"Yes... I didn't really mean to do that at all..."

"Really...?"

"Um, gee... I'd like to have this cloth removed now..." He grinned timidly, the situation growing awkward.

"Okay," Jane spoke. "Jessica's outside. I'm too afraid to try to remove it myself." She turned around and gave the signal fore "come here" to the others. They nodded and Jessica opened the door for them.

"Alright, do you think you're ready, Mr. Racine?" Jessica asked, clutching onto the cloth around his head. He nodded an earnest yes.

Aloïs opened his innocent blue eyes widely. It was as if he were being born again. The colors, the lights, the face, and that girl in front of him...

She had shoulder-length dark brown hair with a squarely cut fringe hanging over her forehead. She had faded streaks of purple in her hair still from when she picked the wrong color at a hair salon a few weeks back. Her eyebrows were dark and bold, and her eyes were a vivid dark green, reflecting Aloïs's face like a colored mirror. Was that him? Man, had he changed. His eyes shifted down from her young face to the clothing she wore. She was wearing a deep purple long-sleeved dress down to her knees with white lacing, leggings, and cuffs. Her shoes were as black as coal and her neck was bare like her ears, save for a too-long gray pearl bracelet dangling from her left wrist. The sound of violin through the hallways had long since halted.

The curious-eyed Aloïs turned his gaze to the staring men accompanying her; all carrying the same wide-eyed, bewildered expression as he himself.

The young brown-haired, blue-eyed man to the left of her (his right) had a sort of hunched-forward stance; his hands deep in his pockets. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and was only a few inches taller than Jane. Adrien. He was wearing a sort of dark, formal suit, though he wore awkward brown boots along with it.

A very blond man stood on the opposite side to Adrien. He looked only slightly older and taller than the other man, but seemed rather brighter and more energetic in his gestures. He wore a dark blue suit with a suit with a rose in his left pocket. André.

Aloïs looked behind him at the much older and taller blond man of the group. His eyes were a pale blue and he wore glasses. He wore a gray, washed-up suit and gray dress pants. He seemed to be very lost in thought what with his fixated gaze. Christian. He noticed a small cross necklace held tightly in his right hand.

The man behind him had a sort of smile on his face. Perhaps he was glad that Aloïs could see again. His head was covered in sloppy mats of brown hair; his eyes an interesting amber color with a sort of fire in them. Léon. He was not as tall nor appeared as old as the man next to him, however.

The chief of the bunch he was, apparently- judging by his age. He appeared to be in his early 40's, but his body still seemed strong. He was still in his police officer uniform, unlike the others who came dressed more formally. His hair was dark- almost black with streaks of white, and his eyes were a very dark brown. He was smiling joyfully, the wrinkles on his now weary face becoming more prominent. He was not just age by his years, but aged by his job.

The man right next to him was incredibly tall- over six feet. Jérôme. He seemed rather old as well, but not quite as old as the chief. He was also similar-looking in terms of eye and hair color, but he wasn't as wrinkled and had a more prominent nose than the rest.

Lastly, the man far away to the opposite side from Christian looked like a simple brunet- about as tall as Léon, but didn't seem as humble as him. He had a sort of mischievous look in his eyes, even when he wasn't trying to be. His posture sort of said it as well.

André walked up to Aloïs and shook his hand. "Good day, Mr. Racine!" he exclaimed. "We're all so happy to know that you and your friends are all right! My name's André Martin."

Adrien walked up to him as well. "Adrien Lacoste."

"Christian La Croix. A pleasure to meet you."

"Officer Léon Renaud."

"Jérôme Lombard."

"Étienne Marchal. Try not to kill us again, please?" he joked as they shook hands. Aloïs laughed.

"Chief Bernard Carré of the Calais Police. It's good to know you and your friends can now see."

Jane shook Aloïs's scarred hand last. "Jane Gutenberg."

"Gutenberg? That's German, isn't it?"

She smiled. "Yes. Not Swedish," she joked. He smiled back.

The door behind them opened. It was Basile, still the same but with his eyes very bright. Malo came following behind, violin in hand. "Hey, Aloïs!" he called.

"Basile?" Aloïs turned to them.

_"Oui."_ Malo smiled dryly.

"And Malo!" Aloïs stood up from his chair and rejoiced with his friends. "Still flaunting your violin skills as always." He smiled back knowingly. Malo gave a toothy grin and struck the g-string a tad bit too hard. The sound echoed tremulously in their ears.

"JESUS, MALO!" Basile shouted, covering his ears.

"Oops." He smiled bashfully.

Aloïs laughed. He turned swiftly to the smiling others.

"So," Jane started. She held up another tennis racket from the gift box. "Shall we play?"

Jessica spoke next, her dirty-blond hair bobbing up and down as she jumped with excitement. "Great! We have a tennis court right outside in the center's backyard."

"But isn't it still raining outside?" Chief Bernard broke in.

Aloïs went up to the window to check with his new eyes. With a smile, he turned his head back to his friends and the people who had saved their lives. "Nope. The sky has finally cleared."


End file.
